The Stranger's Journey (cancelled story)
by Mr. Coluber
Summary: The Emperor is dead and the Galaxy is at peace - a delicate peace, but peace nonetheless, which allows the New Republic to fortify itself, and the New Jedi Order to experience a rebirth. But there's a new threat, one which may be more dangerous than the old Emperor. The Galaxy must endure a new crisis, as new players enter the scene.
1. Hand of Darkness

**The EMPEROR is dead! His GALACTIC EMPIRE has been weakened, as the NEW REPUBLIC is founded by the leaders of the REBEL ALLIANCE, led by PRINCESS LEIA ORGANA of Alderaan.**

**JEDI MASTER LUKE SKYWALKER has established a NEW JEDI ORDER on JAVIN IV, determined to protect the galaxy from the evil forces which scramble to take advantage of the Empire's fall. **

**In the meantime, the CONFEDERACY OF INDEPENDENT SYSTEMS has arisen anew, under the protection of the mysterious AQUILIAN RANGER. **

**What remains of the EMPIRE is being led by the new dark lord CARNOR JAX, ruler of the region of space known as the IMPERIAL REMNANT.**

**The three factions are wary of each other, and the slightest misstep might lead to a horrific war.**

**However, unbeknownst to all parties, another mysterious player has emerged from beyond the dark void, led by a tyrant of immense power who himself is but the lieutenant of a more HIDEOUS STRENGTH…**

After six months serving as a Sensor Officer on board the Star Destroyer _Gelidus_, Ensign Jatha Guryan was beginning to feel the weight of monotony. She had before her three monitors, and all of them said the same thing. There was nothing within the Rhogast System save for the mining station of Perrilant Ode. Ever since the station had been built two years before, the Rhogast System had seen little, if any, traffic.

Suddenly, Jatha felt a hand on her shoulder.

"How are we going?" asked Lieutenant Mazen Duol, with his comforting voice.

Jatha couldn't help but smile. She didn't know if she was in love with the man, but it certainly seemed so. Jatha couldn't help it. Duol was handsome and quite charismatic; with his chiseled features, dark brown hair and brown eyes, he could make any woman bend to his will with one word alone. Every woman within the ship had already spoken of their desire to do nefarious things to him. As much as she hated to hear her female colleague's talk, she couldn't help but admit that she was no different.

Jatha did her best to control herself; it didn't help that she had to work alongside with him, considering that he too was a Sensor Officer on the same shift.

"No external threats as of yet Lieutenant Duol" she said, giving her fellow officer a sideways glance. Jatha hoped that she wasn't blushing. "Nothing at all as a matter of fact"

She tried to sound cool. She hoped that she did.

"Well that's good" said the gallant Lieutenant. "I wouldn't want to die. Would you?"

Lieutenant Duol was saying words which would have made any other man seem a coward. Yet his tone was roguish and filled with such confidence that it seemed more sensible, and brave to say such things.

"No," she said "But I am bored"

Lieutenand Duol beamed a smile at her. Jatha nearly fainted.

"You're a braver girl than I am Ensign Guryan," said Lieutenant Duol "Even though I'm not a girl"

Jatha let out a giggle. She was glad he wasn't a girl.

"What's going on Ensign Guryan?" asked Captain Lorovan suddenly. A portly, dusky woman, Captain Lorovan had a more terrifying appearance than any stone-faced man. Jatha nearly choked.

"I told Ensign Guryan a joke ma'am" said Lieutenant Duol, cutting in and coming to Jatha's defense. Captain Lorovan gazed at the man; she had done so before to many other officers, and they had all been subdued by her glare. But not Lieutenant Duol. He stared back at her without backing down. In the end, it was Captain Lorovan who looked away.

"Don't do it again" said the captain, her head lowered as if in defeat.

"No need to worry," replied Lieutenant Duol. He turned to look at Jatha and winked. The girl's heart nearly skipped a beat. She had to look at her three monitors again, otherwise she'd collapse.

It took less than a second for Jatha's computer to light up. All fantasies of her future life with Lieutenant Duol were dunked in a strong vault within her mind. She became a serious minded officer, as she was trained to be.

"Captain, sensors are picking up odd energy fluctuations some 400,000 klicks from here. The computer does not recognize them," she said feeling the thrill of something new.

Jatha then considered what that meant; she should have known that the dull peace of her posting wouldn't last for long. The gas giant Kuroshah, in spite of its isolation, had some value. The miners stationed at Perrilant Ode had already extracted many elements of industrial worth from its atmosphere. The most valuable substance extracted was a form of Tibanna gas, dubbed Tibanna-3 by Imperial scientists. It could be used in the same manner as Tibanna gas, being cheaper and easier to process; but it suffered from instability, and was prone to explode.

In spite of its instability, Tibanna-3 was a valuable commodity to any potentate with a rapidly growing army. Its existence justified an attack, which was why the _Gelidus_ was present; to protect Perrilant Ode. The station itself had three squadrons of V-Wing Starfighters posted within. Sadly, this was the best defense that the Empire could muster for such a forgotten region. An old ship equipped with just sixty outdated Tie Interceptors, and a drum shaped mining station armed with two turbolaser batteries, twenty cannons and two torpedo launchers. To call such a defense feeble was to be generous.

* * *

That no one – not even pirates – had attacked the system was miracle. Perhaps no one knew of this outpost or what it was that Perrilant Ode was extracting. Yet, gas giants were always valuable for what they contained within their heavy clouds.

Nonetheless, the energy signature was an odd one. Jatha tried to run it through her computer several more times. The energy signature was still unidentifiable.

Captain Lorvan descended into the sensor pit to look at Jatha's console. The Captain was an intimidating presence, but Jatha forgot that when she saw through the corner of her eye that Lieutenant Duol was also looking in her direction.

"Commander Mordaz, contact Perrilant Ode and tell Commander Tuk to prepare for a fight. I want all of his V-wings mobilized. Do the same to all of our fighters. I want all our Stormtroopers prepared and hungry for blood," barked out the captain.

She quickly climbed out of the pit, on to the command walkway, and looked out the transparisteel viewport.

"It's a ship ma'am, but of an unknown origin," said Lieutenant Duol, reading the information from one of his monitors. "We should have visual confirmation soon"

Jatha took a quick look at him. He now, at this instant, seemed different, almost a distinct individual than the one she knew. His jaw was clenched and his brow furled. Something was irritating him. It wasn't just the fact that he was about to get into a fight when he didn't want to. His expression was that of a man who knew that what was coming was no good at all.

She couldn't help but have a bad feeling about the entire situation.

"I see something," said Captain Lorovan, craning her neck and straining herself to look at a speck which had just appeared within the view screen. She turned her head back. "I want a better look"

One of the other officers within the pit turned on the holoprojector.

The hologram quickly appeared.

It was a most unusual sight.

Never had Jatha seen such a vessel. It seemed to resemble an oceanic vessel, with its sharp, wedge-like prow, rather than a ship made to traverse the dark void of space. In terms of size, it seemed to be almost the same length as an Executor class super star destroyer; in terms of width and height, the unknown ship was much bulkier. Overall, the ship was hideous; it seemed as if someone had decided to group several buildings of varying shades of darkness on top of it, ending with rocket nozzles of differing size at the stern. Some of these 'buildings' resembled temples which Jatha had once seen as a child on a hologram of a world with a forgotten name. If they were temples, they were cursed and damned.

There was no doubt whatsoever that this alien vessel was armed. Its guns couldn't be more obvious; the cannons on the vessel's broadside were particularly intimidating due to their sheer size. The lower part of its prow extended forward, as if the gigantic ship was intended to be used as a battering ram.

Fully aflame, the ship's engines were pushing it towards the _Gelidus_.

"What the hell is that thing?" Jatha heard an ensign ask. No one could answer that question. Captain Lorovan seemed particularly unsettled.

"Ma'am," said Lieutenant Duol suddenly, and perhaps too impetuously. Nonetheless, the captain did not rebuke him. "Perhaps you should call Commander Brax and have a contingent of Stormtroopers stationed at the bridge"

A moment of silence followed. Lieutenant Duol could have been tossed into the brig for his tone of voice.

"That is a good suggestion Lieutenant Duol," Captain Lorovan turned to look at another officer. "Ensign Zeddy, distribute side arms to everyone"

The ensign got up from his post. He returned with SC-4 blaster pistols and E-11 rifles for every officer.

Jatha grabbed both weapons; she tried to holster her pistol, but it fell off her belt; before anyone could notice, Jatha left her weapon on the console before her. Hopefully, no one would notice.

She turned to Lieutenant Duol, and noticed the distaste with which he held his SC-4.

"Is there a problem?" she asked with a low voice.

Duol gave her a warm smile.

"It's not my favorite type of sidearm. A bit savage. But it'll do," he replied.

The stormtroopers soon arrived, with Commander Brax at the head.

"What's the situation?" asked the burly soldier. The scars on his weathered face were a testament to the years in which he had fought for the Empire.

"This is merely a precautionary measure," stated Captain Lorovan matter-of-factly. "We have an intruder; a foreign vessel is trespassing. I want to be prepared to either invade that ship, or defend our own,"

Commander Brax took only one look at the ugly hologram.

"Yes ma'am" he said. He looked back at the other Stormtroopers. "Establish a line of defense at the Security Foyer"

The Stormtroopers were quick to obey, marching to their posts as Brax positioned himself close to the captain, ready for the word to invade the enemy.

Jatha had never felt such trepidation before. Her heart was beating faster and stronger than ever. Now she really wished for a return to monotony.

"We'll be fine," Duol said to her.

Captain Lorovan paced this way and that before saying a word.

"Lieutenant Sijak, hail that ship," said the captain, and then, turning to commander Brax. "We might as well give them a chance to surrender"

Brax didn't change the grim expression on his face. He simply nodded.

The link had been established when the alien vessel transmitted its message. Everyone within the bridge was caught off guard, including the Captain and even Commander Brax; an otherworldly voice suddenly said:

"**Surrender. You have no other choice**"

The voice seemed as if it had once been human; the words were harsh, with a hard palatal edge and rough vowels. The sound alone nearly made Jatha fall down on her knees.

The voice had an effect on Captain Lorovan. She was sweating, and her usually dark complexion lost its color.

"We will not surrender. Lord Jax would have our heads, and we are far better than that thing," said Captain Lorovan, visibly shaken. "Commander Mordaz. I want all fighters engaged"

"Yes Ma'am"

The officers station at Starfighter Operations were busy, barking out orders to the pilots. All Tie Interceptors came out, joined soon enough by the V-Wings of Perrilant Ode.

"Attack that monster," growled out the Captain.

* * *

To Jatha, it seemed to happen very quickly. The moment Captain Lorovan had given the order, every fighter sped towards the foreign vessel. The guns of Perrilant Ode and the Gelidus fired out in unison. Cannons blared and torpedoes were released, all aimed at the ugliest starship anyone had ever seen. The projectiles and blasts reached the ship before the fighters did.

The enemy ship took all of the blasts without moving away or firing back a single shot. Once it was all done, the ship was still there, advancing towards the _Gelidus_ without stopping.

Finally, the Starfighters made contact.

At last, the trespassing starship reacted. Crudely shaped Starfighters, heavily armed for craft their size, emerged from the ugly mass; dreadful looking vessels with monstrous and jagged appearances followed. Both types of Starfighters came out in large numbers.

It didn't take too long for the two groups to exchange fire. The Ties did their best, using their speed to great effect, weaving and shooting.

At first, the Tie Interceptors and the V-wings seemed to have the advantage. At least three of the enemy Starfighters exploded into space debris once they were shot down. But the enemy numbers were overwhelming.

A V-wing was shot down, followed by a Tie, and then another Tie.

The tide of the battle was turning quickly. Jatha could see why. The enemy Starfighters heavily outnumbered the imperial fighters; there was so many that it was hard to make an estimate. Both the _Gelidus_ and Perrilant Ode were losing fighters at an alarming rate.

The total force of Imperial Starfighters available was instantly reduced from sixty to half that number, in a horribly short amount of time.

The entire spectacle was horrifying and heart-stopping. The alien fighters were bulky and slow when compared to the Tie fighters. Yet they were tough, and fast enough to start decimating the Tie Interceptors and V-wings even as they did all of the right maneuvers. One Tie came as close as it could, only to be unfortunate enough to collide with one of its squad mates, perishing in a pointless manner.

Jatha turned to look at Duol. He was at his console, furiously typing.

"Captain, we need to call back our fighters" said Lieutenant Bagram of Starfighter Operations.

Captain Lorovan turned to look at the young man. There was a sudden flash and Captain Lorovan turned her head in time to see what seemed to be a star blink in and out of existence. Another Imperial Starfighter had been destroyed.

Turning back to Lieutenant Bagram, she said:

"Do it!" she quickly turned towards the Weapon Station. "Lieutenant Fragg, cover their retreat"

The _Gelidus_ started to aim its fire at the large ship and its fighters, as did the guns of Perrilant Ode. The retreat did the Starfighters little good, as the enemy fighters shot them down. Not one single Tie or V-wing returned.

Once the last Tie was destroyed, the invading starship continued to advance towards the _Gelidus_, and accelerated its pace. The enemy fighters stayed back and gave room to the larger vessel. Perrilant Ode's weapons fell silent. The alien ship was now positioned in such a way that the _Gelidus_ was blocking the station's view.

"Get us out of here!" Captain Lorovan yelled out. Even Jatha was caught by surprise; she never thought she'd hear Captain Lorovan fearfully order a retreat and abandon Perrilant Ode.

The image of the behemoth as shown by the hologram had not changed; there were no dents or scorch marks to be seen. Its engines burned more intensely than before.

The large vessel shifted position slightly, and one of the cannons on top began to turn.

In a sudden burst, the cannon released its payload, which shot out at great speed towards the _Gelidus_. Jatha quickly looked at her instrument panel. Her eyes widened as she saw the energy signature of the projectile.

"Captain! That shell has a high amount of ionic energy" she exclaimed hurriedly.

Captain Lorovan scowled.

"Commander Mordaz, avoid that thing now!" she screeched.

By then, nothing could be done. The projectile crashed against the hull of the _Gelidus_.

Most of the lights went out. They could only count on the power of emergency generators. The _Gelidus_ was an old ship which did not have the same fail-safes which newer models of Star Destroyers possessed. The computers worked, but sluggishly.

The hologram of the alien vessel was still there however; whoever designed the emergency generator had decided that holographic display was of vital importance.

Suddenly, a segment of the enemy ship opened. Out came several smaller ships, although each one of them were larger than each individual Starfighter. They were not fighters, that was certain. Judging by the information transmitted by the computer, the new vehicles were about 55 meters in length, and rectangular in shape. Each one had clamps at their bows. Their course was pretty clear; the ships were headed straight for the _Gelidus_.

Weapons and engines were still off-line. Nothing could be done to stop them.

"What's going on?" asked Captain Lorovan. Commander Mordaz could only shake his head.

"They're troop carriers," said Duol suddenly and with unnatural certainty.

"Shoot them down!" exclaimed Captain Lorovan.

"We can't!" replied Commander Mordaz.

The _Gelidus_ drifted harmlessly in the void, caught within Kuroshah's orbit. The Star Destroyer had lost its freedom of motion at a vital moment.

The alien transport ships were still on their path towards the _Gelidus_, and their speed was increasing. Mere seconds now separated the swarm of rectangular shaped vessels from the _Gelidus_.

In an instant, there was several great bangs which reverberated throughout the old Star Destroyer.

* * *

Stormtroopers scrambled to position themselves. The bridge officers remained at their posts, still amazed at the turn of events. Jatha was terrified. She turned to the one man who could give her some peace of mind.

Duol held a portable datapad in his hand which was connected to the ship's computer via a wire. He was discreet and couldn't be seen by anyone else but Jatha given their position within the pit and the darkness.

"What are you doing?" asked Jatha using a low voice as to not be heard. Duol turned his head and smiled.

"Wait for it," he said with a wink.

A burst of noise could suddenly be heard from beyond the bridge's blast door.

Commander Brax was at a console, furiously pressing several buttons. The hologram shifted and changed from the alien starship, to a corridor within the _Gelidus_. Stormtroopers had already barricaded the corridor and were shooting at an unseen enemy. An expansion of the hologram revealed the invading armies: droids of a sort which no one had ever seen before. They were dark red, and had heads similar to the helmet of the gone and missed Lord Darth Vader; within both of their hands they held oddly shaped blasters, with dual barrels on the upper and bottom side of the grip. Held by human hands such blasters would have been impractical. The droids however, knew how to use them.

The firefight was intense. Some Stormtroopers were on the ground, but so were several of the droids. There was a sudden outburst of fire. A bright red droid entered the scene, larger than the others, menacing and hovering over the floor, with a long glowing red slit in place of its eyes. The red droid lifted its arms, revealing a pair of buzz saws were the hands were supposed to be. The red droid advanced towards the Stormtroopers, shirking away whatever blasts came at it, cutting to pieces the nearest soldiers that dared offer a challenge.

"GD-013, fall back to sector 7D" Commander Brax said. The Stormtroopers obeyed, backing away as they fired at the droids. One Stormtrooper tossed a grenade. The explosion didn't harm the big red droid, but it allowed cover for the Stormtroopers to escape. Brax pressed another button on the console. The Hologram now showed the main hangar.

Fighting was more desperate there. The droids and the Stormtroopers were engaged in combat. However, in this stage, the droids had with them a human. A woman.

She was of of indeterminate age; her poise was regal and graceful; her face was oval, with a small nose and a mouth which at first glance seemed wide and generous. An intricate braid of bronze hair hung over the small of her back. The woman's garb was odd, consisting of a body suit which covered the entirety of her frame save for her head and hands; a dark cloak hung from her shoulders and a hood could be seen beneath her braided hair. Jatha's attention however, was drawn towards the woman's eyes. They were eerily blue; a blue within blue which she had never seen before.

The strange lady seemed unarmed at first, and out of place in such a heated fight. Yet she moved with incredible speed, and a glimpse of bright light revealed in her hand a knife covered in an energy shield. She knew how to use it.

With alarming speed she went from one Stormtrooper to the next, cutting through their armor as if they wore none, avoiding fire easily. The Stormtroopers within the hangar were in much worse shape than the previous platoon.

"ZK-038 fall back now!" said Brax.

His words weren't received. The last Stormtrooper within the hangar got a knife in his forehead. The bronze-haired lady smiled.

Duol tapped Jatha's shoulder.

"When I tell you to, come with me," he whispered into her ear.

"What?" she asked.

Duol stepped away, and looked at the series of holograms which Brax was observing. More and more scenes of combat presented themselves. Enemy forces were fighting Stormtroopers throughout the entire body of the _Gelidus_. No corridor or hall was spared from seeing combat. Some were fair fights. However, wherever the big red droid, or the woman with the bronze hair and eerie blue eyes appeared, defeat was guaranteed. The only thing that the Stormtroopers could do was fall back.

A strong hand gripped Jatha's arm, while another covered her mouth.

"Shh. Don't say a word," said Duol. "We're leaving"

He removed his hand from her mouth. His own finger went to his lips.

Jatha looked around; in the prevailing darkness, very little could be seen. All she could see was the captain cowering in a corner, as Commander Brax viewed images of imminent defeat. She looked at Duol and took a deep breath.

She nodded.

Duol smiled.

"Let's go"

They moved along the pit; Jatha had no idea what Duol's plans were, but she had absolute faith in him. The gallant Lieutenant moved to the other end of the pit, close to where the captain and the two commanders were standing and arguing.

Duol pressed a button on his datapad. The Lieutenant, stationed at that post inevitably noticed the gesture.

"Lieutenant. What are you…" the Lieutenant didn't even get a chance to finish. Duol's fist came out quickly and connected with the Lieutenant's chin in a second. The officer fell down with a thud.

Jatha gasped.

Captain Lorovan and the commanders suddenly shifted their attention from their own consoles to the crew pit.

"What are you doing Lieutenant Duol?" Commander Mordaz asked.

A door next to Jatha suddenly opened, revealing a hidden turbolift. She was astonished, as she didn't even know it was there.

"Get in," Duol said.

Captain Lorovan's face was contorted in rage.

"That's my turbolift!" she held up her blaster and aimed at both of them.

Duol was faster. He raised his closed hand; Jatha had just enough time to see Duol clutching a cylindrical device, before a beam of purple light emerged from it. The beam didn't shoot out towards the ceiling, but formed a blade.

Captain Lorovan's blast bounced off of the purple blade of Duol's lightsaber, and was reflected back at her chest. The captain fell down. Before Jatha could do anything, Duol had shoved her into the turbolift. The door closed behind both of them.

* * *

Jatha knew what she had to ask, but she didn't know how.

At last, she said:

"Who are you?"

"I'm not Lieutenant Mazen Duol of Carida, that person never existed" he said. "My name is Kyp Durron. I'm a Jedi Knight"

Jatha's heart should have stopped. But it didn't. The man she admired, who she was infatuated for, was a spy working for the enemy. She was completely befuddled. Jatha knew that she should shoot him there. But she couldn't. She didn't have her blaster.

"Why are you here?" she asked. It was a silly question; she knew why he was there, to hurt the Empire, but she had to ask the question.

"I was trying to work up the Imperial hierarchy and get close to Carnor Jax" he said with a smile "I guess that won't happen now"

"Why doesn't Skywalker challenge Lord Carnor Jax himself?" Jatha said, feeling hurt and every bit angry "Why did they send you?"

"Senator Organa sent me. Master Skywalker was never told where I went" the man called Durron said. He seemed genuinely remorseful when he spoke to Jatha "I'm sorry"

"Get burned!" Jatha spat out.

The turbolift door opened. Jatha looked away from Durron, and saw that she was staring at a hangar. A shuttle stood at the center. Surprise for once distracted her from her sense of outrage.

The hangar was well lit. Much of the emergency power was diverted to this location.

"It's a secret escape shuttle" Durron remarked as Jatha stepped out of the turbolift. "Reserved for the captain in situations of duress. That was probably why she was so angry"

Jatha suddenly turned, angry at Durron and herself.

"I'm a traitor! You made me a traitor!" she yelled out.

Durron held out his hand.

"I never meant to. After this tour was over, you were never supposed to see me again. My hand was forced. Speaking of which, we need to hurry. These mystery droids will be here any second. They're crawling everywhere"

Jatha was seething, but Durron had a point.

"What about the bridge?" she asked "What's going on up there?"

"Well, I blocked their access to this shuttle, so they're either fighting off the invaders, or they're surrendering. Which is why we should hurry" Durron said as he walked towards the shuttle.

He pulled out the datapad, and typed on it.

"This is getting slow" he said. "But the door will be open soon, and we'll leave"

"No" she replied suddenly.

Durron looked aggravated.

"I know that you're hurt by my deception, but we both need to leave. We need to alert everyone about this new enemy," he said.

"You want us to leave? Where? And warn who? Do you want to go to the Rebels? Tell them while my people burn? I am an Imperial citizen. We should go to Carida" she said.

Durron held up his hands.

"No we won't" he said.

"Yes! Yes you will! And you'll turn yourself in" she said.

"I can't do that. And by the way, you don't have the weapons to threaten me. You left them behind on the bridge," Durron pointed out, holding up his light saber for show. "Jatha, you don't have a choice. Do you think that Carnor Jax will let you live? You'll have to trust me"

Jatha let out a growl.

"Oh my" she said with the palm of her hand on her face.

Durron suddenly stood up straight and lit up his lightsaber. He turned towards the far side of the hangar. Jatha froze.

With a single blast, the wall blew up, opening a large hole. One of the brick red droids walked through. It shot two beams at Durron from its peculiarly designed blaster. With little effort, the Jedi spy blocked both blasts with his light saber, and bounced them back at the droid. The two beams connected with the droid's form; its head exploded in a cloud of sparks.

As the droid fell down, another appeared; Durron tossed his lightsaber at it. The blade flew as if it were a discus; it cut the droid in half. Using the force, Durron pulled the lightsaber back into his hand.

The bronze haired woman walked in. She held in her hand a sword which glowed; it's blade was surrounded by a corona of energy. The woman smiled.

"Hello darling" she said, approaching Durron.

"Hello" Durron replied. "Who might you be? Whom do you serve?"

The woman's smile widened.

"I am Lady Alia Atreides, formerly of Arrakis, sister to Paul Muad'Dib, daughter of Duke Leto Atreides and the Lady Jessica. And you?" she asked.

"Kyp Durron" Durron held his lightsaber in ready. "You're not going to tell me what you want?"

"What's the point?" she said.

Lady Atreides moved quickly. To Jatha's eye, it seemed as if she had disappeared, only to reappear mere centimeters in front of Durron.

However, Durron was just as fast and prepared. When she swung her sword at him, Durron parried it with the purple beam of his lightsaber, while taking a single step away. He countered, aiming the tip at her kidney; Lady Atreides spinned away.

Kyp Durron moved with lightning speed, dashing towards the strange woman. To Jatha's eye, it seemed as if he had disappeared, only to reappear mere centimeters in front of the bronze-haired enemy.

His lightsaber was even quicker, with its blade forming a semi-circle towards the woman.

Lady Atreides quickly took one step back, and parried with her own sword.

This had all happened in one second. All Jatha could see in tiny window of time, was a distorted blur.

In spite of his initial failure, Kyp Durron did not stop his attack. He swung his purple blade to the left, and to the right again; towards the head and then towards the waist. Lady Atreides backed away each time whilst parrying.

A scowl formed on Durron's visage. This was taking too long. Lady Atreides moved with unnatural speed; her motion was ghost-like, and it seemed as if she was floating an inch over the floor.

The smile on the lady's face was now demonic. She was having a good time.

Durron raised the lightsaber over his head, and then brought it down upon the lady's sword. This time, she did not move an inch. Lady Alia Atreides raised her sword with one hand; the blazing blade blocked the Jedi's purple blade. Her left hand then moved away from its resting position; Lady Atreides made a swiping motion. Durron quickly jumped back and seemed to swing his lightsaber at nothing but empty air.

Suddenly, Durron yelped out. His right arm shook; the Jedi almost let go of his lightsaber. Jatha only noticed the fine mist surrounding Durron as it dissipated. Jatha wondered what sort of thing had Lady Atreides tossed at Durron.

With a growl, Durron raised his left hand; what remained of the lady's droids were lifted off the ground. Durron then pulled his left hand closer to his body. The droids were pulled as well.

For once, Lady Atreides seemed surprised. She had to leap away in order to avoid being struck by the metallic bodies of own troops.

The door to the shuttle finally opened.

With a quick motion, Durron shot out the palm of his hand. Lady Atreides was struck by a wall of Force, and slammed into the actual wall of the hangar. He turned quickly towards Jatha.

"It's about time that you left" he said, raising his hand.

Jatha felt something invisible grab the entirety of her body. A second later, she was being tossed into the open entrance of the shuttle.

Oddly enough, time seemed to slow down Jatha as she made her way into the shuttle. She saw Durron turn around to meet Lady Alia, who was back on her feet with her sword in hand.

She wondered when he was going to turn and run inside.

Just as she was about to cross the entrance to the shuttle, and lose all sight of what was happening within the hangar, a rain of debris fell from the ceiling. The red droid fell from above, right in front of Durron.

As she entered the shuttle, and just before the door closed, she heard a terrible buzzing noise, followed by a harrowing scream.

The door to the shuttle closed.

The interior lit up. Jatha looked ahead to see that the hangar bay door was opened; suddenly, the shuttle was speeding past it, into the darkness of space. What followed was the familiar blue of Hyperspace. She huddled against the shuttle wall.

* * *

**2**

* * *

This part of the story is simple. There was a boy, or a young man – as far as one of eighteen years of age could be considered either – serving as a Pinlighter aboard the _Blue Danube_. He was no ordinary boy, or young man, however; he was a Norstrilian.

What is a Norstrilian? Why are they so special? In truth, they aren't. It's just that Norstrilians are the most dangerous people in the galaxy; perhaps in others too. A lone Norstrilian could tour the vastness of space unarmed, and kill almost anything which attacked him. Norstrilians were feared by governments; ordinary citizens of the Instrumentality of Man hated or worshipped them. The Instrumentality of Man left them alone, or defended them in secret, such as the time in which Raumsog made his move, and the Golden Ship struck once.

Norstrilians looked simple; the looks were a snare and delusion. Thousands of years of unprovoked attack made a people that looked as simple as sheep have minds as subtle as serpents. They had started out tough, and they only got tougher; stronger than any men had ever been before. That happens when you try to hurt and rob people for three thousand years. People get obstinate. They avoid strangers except for sending out spies and a very occasional tourist. They don't mess with people and they are death, death inside and out and turned over twice, if you mess with _**them**_.

Where do Norstrilians come from? What a silly question. Old North Australia of course. Charts call it that. Most people call it Norstrilia. Even the Norstrilians. What other world could make a Norstrilian?

What is Norstrilia like? That is hard to say. A big, dry, gray ball they call it, gray and gray everywhere. Watch the dappled dimpled twinkles blooming on the star bar, others say. You'd have to be there to believe it, but if you were there you wouldn't get off alive. Mother Hitton's Littul Kittons wait for you down there; little pets they are, little little little pets; cute little things; don't you believe it – that's a friendly warning. No man ever saw them and walked away alive.

I make it sound terrible; I didn't mean it, I swear. People lead peaceful lives there, untouched by militarism. But Norstrilia has to be terrible; a world booby-trapped with death and things worse than death; for Norstrilia has the santaclara drug, better known as _stroon_. Thousands of planets clamor for it; and you can only get _stroon_ from Norstrilia – nowhere else. It is a virus which grows on enormous, gigantic, misshapen and sick sheep. It was a most fortunate illness.

_Stroon_ prolonged human life indefinitely; but it could not be synthesized, paralleled, or duplicated. You could only get _stroon_ from Norstrilia. Robbers and empires tried to steal the drug, to steal the sick sheep. They hadn't succeeded in a very long time. Long ago, a few sheep had been taken off planet during the Fourth Battle of New Alice, in which half the menfolk of Norstrilia had died beating off the Bright Empire. Four of the Empire's battle fleets had been destroyed, only for the sheep to get better and produce healthy lambs – or as some would say, the Bright Empire paid a heavy price for a cold box of mutton. The monopoly remained in Norstrilia.

Few were as successful.

What is the time?

The first century of the Rediscovery of Man, when C'mell the cat-girl of Meeya-Meefla lived; when Lord Jestocost worked in secret to help the underpeople. Around the time the world called Shayol was polished off; its prisoners sent away to better fates.

When Rod McBan bought the Earth, lock, stock and barrel.

Fifteen thousand years after the bombs went up and the boom came down on Old Old Earth. After the Jwindz, the beasts, the unforgiven and the Manshonyaggers. After the people fell and the Scanners who lived in vain. After Helen America had met Mr. Gray-no-more and set sail. After D'Joan burned to death, professing her love to all. After the crime and glory of Commander Suzdal.

In other words, a contemporary setting, closer to a more current year.

000

Shortly before he woke up, Ted Kelly dreamt he was back home, on the Crested Vale, owned by his family for many generations; from the times following the horrors of Paradise VII, when men fought to be men again, away from the monstrous forms; fought for hands and noses, eyes and feet, man and woman. When Old North Australia was found and settled by the survivors of that horrid when.

Dad and Chas were tending the sheep while Mum sat at the porch knitting a new shirt. They were all so very tall; unlike Ted, who for some reason could never grow taller than five feet and seven inches.

This was bad for Ted. There were standards to be met. Children had to be tested at the age of sixteen. Chas met the standards very well. Ted almost did as well. If only he was as tall as his family. He missed the mark by a foot.

Even as a child, Ted knew his fate. When he was sixteen, he would be sent away by himself to the House. He would go there and giggle. He would then giggle some more, until he died.

Crested Vale would go to his brother, as everyone expected it to; as it should. Ted would be dead; as he should be.

Ted suddenly woke up; he was eighteen years old and on a hospital bed. He sprung up and had his feet on the floor in a single bound. Ted approached the window and looked out, and then down.

Formalhaut III was not at all like Norstrilia; it was most like beloved Manhome Earth, but even Earth was different. Ted had been to Meeya Meefla, which was perhaps the oldest city on Earth; he had marveled at Earthport rising high up into the highest point of the atmosphere, shaped like a monumental wineglass. He had walked amongst people who were speaking ancient tongues and picking out proper names for themselves like real people.

It was springtime in Formalhaut III, where D'Joan had been burned alive and the people down below were not like that at all. The Rediscovery of Man was still unknown to this world as it was on Earth, even though it was here, with the fiery death of the dog-girl D'Joan, that sparked its beginning. People remained as they were before, uniformly handsome, incapable of tossing cows, doing the same dull things for four centuries until they died.

With a quick motion, Ted turned away. The people of Formalhaut III did not seem so real to him; even though they were just animals, the underpeople were more like what people were supposed to be. The people of Formalhaut III didn't even have real names; they had numbers. They were pre-fabricated creatures, their futures and lives determined by crystals within An-Fang.

Even their thoughts, which Ted could feel as a slight hum, seemed uniform and without any variation.

A nurse walked in. She started; Ted could see that she did not expect him to be walking around yet.

Pinlighting was a hell of a way to earn a living, one which usually earned the Pinlighter two months of mandatory rest after half an hour of dueling with the Dragons.

A week had passed since Ted Kelly had fought the horrors of space. The nurse had expected to see him in bed, not walking and about.

No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Ted Kelly was a true Norstrilian. Even if he was supposed to have died two years before, giggling beneath the gray sky as the beige-brown sheep rested on the blue-gray grass.

"Good morning" he said, speaking like a young man of the Instrumentality who had never heard of Her-majesty-the-Queen, or walked barefoot on craggy gray rocks.

"Good morning" she replied, caught off guard. Without even looking into her mind, Ted could tell that the nurse was new. "Pardon me, but shouldn't you be in bed?"

Ted shook his head.

"No"

"But you're a Pinlighter," she remarked.

"Yes," Ted said. "I would like to go back to the _Blue Danube_. Get my uniform"

"I can't do that," she said.

Ted let out a groan.

"Call the doctor"

Inexperienced and surprised, the nurse left the room; the doctor soon walked in.

He was not impressive looking. The doctor looked young, but every human of the Instrumentality could live for up to four centuries, undergoing a process of rejuvenation at least twice. The doctor could be as old as two centuries. Granted, the people of Norstrilia could get older than that. Certainly, he didn't seem like the sort of man who could lift a cow over his head. However, the man had an easy smile and he approached Ted readily.

"Mr. Kelly, you're on your feet I see. Fairly typical of a Norstrilian, even one that's a bit of a runt like yourself," said the doctor unwaveringly.

Ted must have seemed like the nurse at that moment; he too had been caught off guard when the doctor revealed he knew of Ted's Norstrilian origin. So much that he completely ignored the fact that the doctor had called him a runt.

The young Norstrilian had always been quite secretive about his past. So much that he no longer spoke like a Norstrilian, except for those times in which he was truly upset or angry. Not even his fellow Pinlighters aboard the _Blue Danube_ knew where he was from.

But this doctor knew. Ted stood still, not knowing what to do.

"I know who and what you are Edward Martin Gerald Bayard Kelly, son of 'Red' Simon Kelly and brother to Charles 'Chas' Kelly. Many more besides me know" the doctor said with a grin.

Ted must have seemed forlorn; he certainly felt it.

"Who knows?" he asked.

The doctor shook his shoulders casually.

"One or two lords of the Instrumentality know; Lord Jestocost would know for sure as he does want to know the slightest minutia. The Temporary Council of the Commonwealth of Old North Australia know of course – "

Ted Kelly suddenly started; he did so in such a manner that the doctor was startled.

"Those buggers know?" said Ted Kelly suddenly, speaking not as a young man of the Instrumentality, but with the accent of a young man of Norstrilia. He quickly caught himself, and spoke normally again. "They know?"

The doctor nodded.

"Ever since you left; when you were twelve, if my information is correct. Is it?"

"Yes" replied Ted, still stunned. His thoughts suddenly went to his family. Certainly there would be consequences for them bending the rules. "You wouldn't know if my Dad is alright? Or Chas? Or Mum?"

For as long as he had lived in the Up-and-Out, Ted couldn't call his mother Mom, like others could. She was still just Mum.

"They're fine. I've been told that everyone thinks you're dead, which you would have been anyway, or so I'm told," replied the doctor.

Ted's eyes widened. Few knew of Norstrilia's customs. They knew that Norstrilians looked simple, that they were strong, and that they were very, very rich. No one outside of Norstrilia could know about the Giggle Room.

"I haven't been told everything, nor do I know what they mean by you being dead" said the doctor waving a hand "I was just given enough information to help you out"

"Who are you?" Ted asked.

"Doctor Vomact" said the man, extending his hand. "I'm here to help"

For a moment, Ted just stared at the man. At last, he took the hand and shook it.

Doctor Vomact winced.

"That's quite the grip! You are a Norstrilian for sure, even though you look like a harmless clerk or a high lord's secretary. But of course you're not," said the doctor with a hint of excitement. "You're also a Pinlighter. You defend the lanes,"

"The Partners do most of the work," admitted Ted, worrying about the course of this particular conversation.

"Yes I know! But they're just dumb cats and not Men to think and strategize," said Vomact joyfully. Ted Kelly couldn't help but feel a tad offended at that statement, but he kept his calm, and he allowed the doctor to continue. "Who would have thought that a Norstrilian would become a Pinlighter? But come to think of it, you Norstrilians do use telepathy, so that isn't odd"

Ted nodded with apprehension. He couldn't help but feel that this conversation was going somewhere.

"Now, the poor nurse told me that you wanted to leave," said the doctor. His attitude changed with startling suddenness. The chipper attitude he had before was swiftly replaced with naked solemnity. "There are problems with that"

"What problems? I'm fine," said Ted.

"On account of you being a Norstrilian, I know" said Doctor Vomact, like a stern parent who knew that their child had done something wrong. Well, that was how Norstrilian parents were. Ted still couldn't figure out how everyone else was raised. "There's nothing wrong with your body, and your mind seems to be hale and free of the stresses usually submitted to the synapses of Pinlighters like yourself. You certainly have a handle on your temper, and I'm happy for it! Although the risk was mine, I never intended to be torn in half by a Pinlighter for insulting the Partners"

Ted raised an eyebrow. He came to the realization that he was being tested. He almost opened his mouth to say something, but Doctor Vomact quickly cut him off.

"No my young man, there is no problem with you," said the doctor "However this Hospital has within it a thousand beds. Currently, the vast majority of the beds contain lifelike robots on which the staff practice their skills. Some even have underpeople in them, which is scandalous and sickens me to no end. Indeed, only ten beds have actual humans in them, you being one of them. Another four of them are your fellow Pinlighters from the _Blue Danube_. They are not Norstrilians, and they are still recovering from your previous duel in the Up-and-Out"

Ted Kelly could have slapped himself; he had forgotten about his friends, Doomy, Maugris 55, Tola of the Blue-Green Moon and Just-in-Tyme. The last battle had been a grueling one. When he heard that all of the Partners had survived, Ted was relieved. He had forgotten that his fellow Pinlighters might not have been in such good shape as their feline companions.

"Damn it!" he exclaimed, getting up suddenly. He automatically walked towards the window, backing away when he saw the people below.

"Does inaction bother you?" asked the doctor.

He thought carefully before responding. Ted could be patient. But not now. Certainly not here. He told the doctor the truth.

"Blast it! I hate this world! I'd rather be in Viola Siderea!" he breathlessly spat out. In all likelihoods, Vomact was one of the planet's natives, but Ted had to be honest to the man.

"Is it the planet? Or the people?" asked Vomact, showing no outrage over Ted's honesty.

"The people," said Ted in resignation.

Vomact shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, that can't be helped. The Rediscovery of Man is taking its time, and the people here are still unlike the people you would see in your world or in other more distant ones," the doctor said. "The solution however is simple. Stay inside"

Without hesitation, Ted shook his head.

"Out of the question. I want to get out. I want to move. I want to do something," the young man said. He could have said that he would walk barefoot outdoors as a child, but he didn't.

Vomact dipped his head low.

"I don't have any easy solutions for you bucko," said Vomact "The _Blue Danube_ isn't shipping out until every Pinlighter has recovered; you should know how dangerous it is to ship out without Pinlighters"

Ted Kelly quickly recalled the lessons he had learned upon becoming a Pinlighter, six years prior. In the beginning, when humanity had first discovered planoforming, no one knew about the horror and death which awaited in the dark void between the stars. The first telepaths who had encountered the monstrosities of the void had called them Dragons; the name was apt. To anyone who wasn't a telepath there was nothing, nothing except the shiver of planoforming and the hammer blow of sudden death or the dark spastic note of lunacy descending into their minds. For telepaths, it was a bit different; in the fraction of a second between the telepaths' awareness of a hostile something out in the black, hollow nothingness of space and the impact of a ferocious, ruinous psychic blow against all living things within the ship, the telepaths had sensed entities something like the Dragons of ancient human lore, beasts more clever than beasts, demons more tangible than demons, hungry vortices of aliveness and hate compounded by unknown means out of the thin tenuous matter between the stars.

By mere luck, a solution was found. One lucky ship had one lucky telepath who had a light beam ready; the Dragon's bane had been revealed. Starlight killed them; a bright light of sun-like intensity; it turned them into dust.

In the beginning, telepaths worked alone. They had their sensitiveness enlarged to an immense range by the pin-sets, which were telepathic amplifiers adapted to the mammal mind. The telepaths would then release the deadly brilliance at the monsters in the void. The light took care of the Dragons every time, and the ships filled with unknowing passengers could hop and skip from star to star.

Alas, it was not enough. From the moment that the menace was discovered, telepaths were trained to sense a Dragon's approach in less than a millisecond. But the Dragons were faster; and they learned with their own mistakes.

Beams could no longer be used efficiently. Attempts had been made to sheath the ships in light at all times, but this proved fruitless. In a secret war waged against a cosmic horror, Mankind was losing. In this desperation, Pinlighting came into being.

Pinlighting consisted of the detonation of ultra-vivid miniature photonuclear bombs, which converted a few ounces of a magnesium isotope into pure visible radiance. Yet this was still not enough.

Meanwhile, this unspoken war was taking its toll. Ships would be found with half of the people dead, and the other half turned into raving lunatics with no hope of healing. Nothing beyond a vivid spouting of columns of fiery terror bursting from the primordial id itself, the volcanic source of life, could be seen within the minds of these psychotic survivors. Rescuers would refuse to enter such ships, with such hopeless survivors.

Man was losing until the Partners came along. Together, they could do what one alone could not. As it was said, Man had the Brains, the Partner had the Speed; or Brawn according to others.

Partners were placed in tiny craft, no bigger than footballs, and they rode them alongside the ships they were protecting. They planoformed with the ships and they were armed with pinlights, bombs the size of thimbles.

Whenever the Dragons appeared, the Pinlighters would toss the Partners at the Dragons – literally due to the mind-to-firing relays directed at the monsters. The Partners had no problem with this; humans may have known the enemy as Dragons, but to a Partner, they were nothing but big Rats. Prey to be hunted and killed. What would one expect from cats?

More cats were trained to become Partners. With their minds bonded to those of their human Pinlighters, they would prowl and await.

Out in the darkness of deep space, they responded to instinct. The Dragons would come, and with a speed faster than Man's the Partners would attack until either one was destroyed. The Partners almost always won.

The ongoing war was now lopsided in Man's favor. Commerce had increased and settlements grew. But the war wasn't over. It never would be.

There be Dragons in the Up-and-Out. Always, there would be.

"But you have a chance of minimizing your down time. There is a cargo ship, the _Red __Running __River_, on route to Sherman. They're waiting for a Pinlighter to replace one which had his soul torn out during an encounter. The rest of the muster has already recovered – they're simply waiting for one replacement. I can ask you to be their substitute. Then you can return on a similar ship on the same lane. It happens. You should be out for a month before you return to find your fellows recovered and the _Blue Danube_ ready to set sail"

Ted Kelly smiled. He liked that a lot.

* * *

When compared with the _Blue Danub_e, the _Red Running River_ was a much larger vessel, shaped like an immense sphere with a ring around it. However, this was a cargo vessel; most of the interior was reserved for goods to be traded, mostly exotic foods and raw material. Space for the human occupants was expected to be small; it could carry passengers but not too many.

Upon approaching the ship, a cat-girl suddenly leapt out from the corner of his eye and embraced him. She was pretty as all cat-girls were supposed to be, and she gave him one dynamite kiss. The young man was left breathless. When she released him he could do nothing but just stare stupidly at the lovely female. He was somewhat aware of his goofy grin, but he didn't care.

"If only you were a cat," she purred as she walked away.

Another woman walked up to him. She had the uniform beauty of the women of Formalhaut III.

"Meow" she said with disdain, before moving on. It soured Ted's mood. He was reminded that if the cat-girl ever got sick, she would never be in one of the thousand beds of the hospital, but be sent to a slaughterhouse to never be sick again.

He proceeded onwards towards the ship.

The door was already opened for him. He made one last check of his Lacaille suede uniform, and walked through the door.

* * *

Introductions were quick and to the point. All four of the Pinlighters of the _Red Running River_ were over the age of twenty – shockingly old for this profession. The oldest was twenty-eight; this was to be her last flight as a Pinlighter and she had a plot of land in Sherman waiting for her. The youngest was twenty four and the wear and tear of Pinlighting was beginning to show. Indeed, all of the Pinlighters seemed tired.

More than just that. They seemed beaten. Very thoroughly beaten even without the marks to show for it. Ted didn't get it. Pinlighting was tough, but not this tough.

The interior of the ship itself was simple. The planoforming room was the center of everything. Shaped like a horseshoe, here the Pinlighters made their shuffle; here they were seated as their Partners drifted outside and where they tossed them at the Rats; here the Go-Captain directed the ship across the void towards their destination. _Red Running River_ was a ship which operated under the janosoidal effect; all it needed was the Go-Captain's mind and a single lever to move along.

Quenta Cin was the eldest Pinlighter, the one with the plot of land in Sherman. She held up the cup and shook if for the shuffle. One by one, the Pinlighters pulled out a stone with a name on it. Ted Kelly was last amongst them. He picked up a rock and read the name. The name engraved was Tevildo. The other Pinlighters did not care about what they transmitted from there telepathic minds. They shot out relief, joy, and then pity, and then joy again.

No one liked Tevildo it seemed. Telepathy was not needed; by the looks on their faces alone, Ted knew that Tevildo would be a hell of a cat to deal with.

Ted Kelly went down the stairs to get Tevildo out of his cage, a ritual which every Pinlighter was committed to.

* * *

At first, Ted couldn't see Tevildo in his cage, until the cat opened his eyes. Tevildo as black as a starless night on a world on the very edge of the galaxy; his eyes however were red as blood and fire, almost seeming to be lidless. When the cat shifted his position within the cage, Ted could see that he was wearing a plain golden collar around his neck, devoid of jewlery or other decorations apart from an odd inscription around it.

Once Ted opened the cage, he realized why the other Pinlighters of the _Red Running River_ regarded Tevildo with such wariness. The black cat shot out of the cage, hissing with its claws drawn out, and its fangs glistening. Anyone else would have had his or her face torn to shreds at least. That was perhaps what the other Pinlighters had expected. Ted however would always be a Norstrilian. He was fast enough to react, and he caught the cat before the little bastard could do any damage.

However, the cat was a prideful little monster, and would not give up; he twisted and turned and did his best to bite the young Pinlighter. Never had Ted Kelly ever faced such opposition from a Partner. Ted held the cat firmly.

"Stop it you beast," said Ted, looking the cat in his blazing, hellish eyes. "There is no way you can beat me" Ted looked around to see if anyone was looking at him. They were alone. "I'm a Norstrilian, and don't you think you can kill me"

Finally, the cat stopped. There seemed to be some truce.

Still, Ted kept the cat at arm's length as he placed Tevildo into the spheroid carrier. Astonishingly, the cat did nothing as Ted placed the miniature pin-set against the base of his brain. Ted padded Tevildo's claws and secured him in.

"Let's hunt some Rats," said Ted. The cat hissed in satisfaction; the first reaction Ted had elicited from the feline which wasn't hostile against himself. He closed the lid of the craft and waited for the sealant to ooze around the seam, closing off the Partner completely until the trip was over, and a technician with a short cutting arc would remove him.

Ted then picked up the projectile and carried it toward the ejection tube. He slid it in and closed the hatch. Quenta Cin came down, holding in her hand a first aid kit. She stopped and looked at Ted in surprise. Now Ted was certain; although the Pinlighters of the _Red Running River _wouldn't want to see him dead, they wouldn't have minded seeing him bleed. Ted couldn't help but smile.

"What a lovely cat," he said, leaving Quenta Cin behind to take out her own Partner from the cage.

* * *

Before anyone else, Ted Kelly had sat down, and pulled the helmet over his head. The pin-set was already warm, allowing him to perceive the space around the _Red Running River_. In the beginning, Ted felt as if he was floating in the center of a cubic grid, which quickly grew to immense size; soon, he could feel the empty horror of space. Ted remained calm. He had been through this before; and just like that, the Formalhaut star came into his awareness, offering him warm protection. The familiar motion of the system's celestial bodies soon joined in.

All around, it was quiet. It was safe.

That sense of safeness ended quickly. It always did, but mostly when a ship was planoforming between stars, within the territory of the Dragons. This time however, Ted's sense of safety was broken by Tevildo's mind.

In a fraction of a second, Ted remembered what Elf Nunindressig, a veteran Pinlighter he had met when he first came into the profession, after fleeing Norstrilia and the Giggle Room, told him about the relationship with the Partners. The dictum was simple: don't monkey around with them. More Pinlighters lost their minds due to the link with their Partners than hunting Rats.

You had to keep your distance.

Regarding Tevildo, there was no danger of Ted Kelly getting too entangled with that cat's mind. He did his best to avoid it. The animal was evil. Ted could feel the animal's malice being transmitted directly into his brain. Tevildo wanted to hurt more than he wanted to fight. He wanted blood. It was for his own pleasure rather than survival. Of course, Ted had known many cats with blood lust, but Tevildo was different in a way in which he could not describe. It almost broke his mind and soul.

Images of Norstrilia came to his mind. The dull grayness was enough to scrub out Tevildo's evil. At least, it was enough to neuter it.

Using his mind, Ted telepathically surveyed the interior of the planoforming room. Every Pinlighter was seated with the pin-set on their heads, hot and blinking.

The Go-Captain walked in, towards the center of the room where the lever was.

He placed his hand on the lever, the last mechanical device to be used on board an interstellar ship.

"Are we ready for travel?" asked the Go-Captain. It was part of a ceremony which was universal throughout every starship, save for the questions asked.

"We are sir and master," replied the Stop-Captain, standing on the other side of the planoforming room.

"Pinlighters, are we ready to fight?" asked the Go-Captain. It was the same question asked to every Pinlighter before a ship set sail in the Up-and-Out. It was a vital question.

In unison, the Pinlighters, including Ted Kelly, replied:

"Ready for combat sir and master"

Those last words were the go-ahead. The Go-Captain pulled the lever, and the ship's engines fired up.

Tevildo had experience in this matter; much to Ted's irritation, the cat had sensed that the vessel was about to planoform. The black cat seemed to enjoy Ted's irritation.

Then, Ted Kelly felt it. At first, it felt like nothing, then like a mild electric shock; an ache of a sore tooth bitten for the first time; a blinding flash of light.

_Red Running River_ was planoforming.

Formalhaut Star fell away from Ted's telepathic perception, as did the planets and moons within the system. The stars were now distant. _Red Running River_ was in a place of darkness.

In the back of his mind, Ted could feel Tevildo growling at him.

_Where are the Rats?_

It was a good question.

Honed by his training and experience, Ted Kelly searched out, and soon spotted the first Rat; and then he spotted the next one; and then the next one after that; and then another one. Ted Kelly could feel the telepathic gasp of every Pinlighter in the room.

Something like this had never happened before. Dragons had always been solitary; never had they attacked in packs – until now.

Tevildo did not care for anyone's apprehensions. He demanded that Ted toss him at the nearest foe. It was what Ted was about to do in the first place; the fact that it seemed that he had to obey this evil little monster's command was angering.

Anger would have to wait as Ted tossed Tevildo at the Rat. The cat was mad with blood lust; Ted had to exert all of his will power to keep Tevildo from wasting all of his pinlights when there was more than one enemy to deal with, and to focus his attack.

Thankfully, Ted's influence worked. Tevildo attacked when the Rat was still shifting its form; the pinlight hit it in the center of its body. The sudden explosion of light destroyed it.

Impatience was the order of the day. Once again, Tevildo demanded to be tossed at the next Rat, regardless if there was another Partner dealing with it. Ted made sure to find a Rat which hadn't been engaged; he found one, and Tevildo attacked again, with the same result. After that, the same process repeated over and over. At times, Ted had to restrain Tevildo's mind in order for another Partner to get the kill.

The Rats were always shifting their forms, from that of a giant ring, to a thin needle in order to evade the pinlights. There was clearly an attempt at coordinating their attacks, even if it wasn't successful. This did not bode well for the future.

All of the Rats had to be taken out.

Tevildo hogged all of the glory for himself. Ted was eventually forced to toss him this way and that just so that he could control Tevildo's accuracy and ammunition. Five milliseconds had passed since the enemy had been engaged.

It took that much time to kill all of the Dragons on the battlefield.

And then space itself cracked open.

Ted first heard the other Pinlighters screaming, before realizing that he too was screaming in agony. He could feel both Partners and Pinlighters being ripped away.

Amidst all of the pain, Ted felt his soul peel away from his body; Tevildo's soul was next to him, tethered through the pin-sets. Tevildo was desperate. He was clawing at empty space, dragging Ted with him. Ted's body was nearest; the young Norstrilian understood that he couldn't allow the evil cat to enter his flesh and blood and bone. He grabbed the cat by his spiritual tail. The two wrestled, and they both fell back into Ted's physical form.

* * *

**3**

* * *

Jedi Master Luke Skywalker climbed up the mountain as the light of day faded away. All of his students had undergone their exercises and were resting or doing whatever it was they felt like doing when school was over. He trusted Master Syndulla to deal with any of the padawans who had plans far too rowdy for youngsters of their age. Luke was free to commune with the Force.

Luke was no longer a young man, but the Force was a great ally, and climbing the mountain took no effort at all. Before all of the light was out, he had reached the summit, and placed the mat on the flattened ground. Luke sat down and looked up.

Even without meditating, Luke was taken away from there here and now, and to the past. Forty two years before, he was a young man in the cockpit of a T-65B X-wing Starfighter, with the call sign of Red Five, fighting against the odds. On the other side of the gas giant, the Death Star waited for its moment to destroy the Rebellion once and for all. That didn't happen; Luke made his impossible shot and saved the day. Privately and publicly, Luke could never take full credit. Even though he was quite the skilled pilot before, honing his skills on the T-16 Skyhopper – with so many similarities with the X-wing he would later fly – the shot itself couldn't have been done without the Force.

Sometimes, Luke wondered what would have happened if he hadn't listened to Old Ben's spectral voice; if he had relied on the computer.

The answer was easy. He would have missed, and the rebellion would have been doomed. He would have died, without ever knowing who his father actually was.

Darth Vader.

That had been the shock.

Again Luke wondered what would have happened if Uncle Owen had allowed him to leave for the academy at the earliest time. That possibility was in fact out of the question, considering Owen was determined to not have Luke follow his father's path, but what if it had happened? What if Owen had let Luke go to leave Tatooine. He would have used his name. He would have been noticed.

With a shrug, Luke shook those thoughts away. He was trying to commune with the Force, not use the power of his imagination. He emptied his mind. He closed his eyes.

The light went out. Night made its descent.

Golden flecks appeared, swirling around the seated form of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. They began to glow, like certain low creatures do in swamp-like environments.

Luke Skywalker opened his eyes.

* * *

Luke Skywalker suddenly found himself standing in the empty square of a golden city. He had never seen a city such as this one; its architecture challenged his sense of sight. There was something mathematically wrong with the structures; every window, door, arch, pinnacle, dome, nook and cranny could not possibly exist on any world or moon in all of existence.

At first glance, it seemed that the city was abandoned; Luke looked to his right and noticed an odd figure next to the eldritch stairs of a building.

It wasn't human; it looked more like an oversized grub with three pairs of alien arms which ended in hands with fingers radially displayed around circular palms. The alien's head was large and bulbous, lacking any visible ears, but having a multitude of eyes. A pair of proboscides hung limply where the mouth would have been on most living creatures.

Within its three arms, the creature held an odd instrument, long in length, covered in various sorts of keys.

Luke was drawn towards the grub-like alien. It took no time for him to conclude that the alien was a being of great intelligence. After having covered a certain distance, Luke stopped.

"Hello there," he said raising the palms of his hands, showing that he was unarmed and not a threat. "I'm Luke Skywalker. I mean you no harm"

Long slender fingers danced along the keys which the alien held in its arms. Luke's mind was suddenly flooded with a wide range of sights, smells, sounds and emotions.

He found himself floating in space, surrounded by familiar stars. The suns of Tatooine, Corsuscant, Naboo, Endor, Hoth and so many other places he had seen and visited were twinkling sparks in the night sky.

It was a breathtaking sight, but Luke felt that there was something wrong. He soon saw what it was.

Dark lines, darker than the void itself began to appear. At first, they were insignificant in size, no thicker than a single strand of hair. With ever more velocity, the lines grew in length and width, forming large hungry worms at first, and then, cracks.

Gradually the cracks grew larger until they connected with one another, forming a single great crevice. A single hand of colossal size came out, charred and burned in a way Luke had never seen before. It reached out into space, as if trying to grab every star in the sky. The crevice grew with the hand's motions; at last, Luke saw a pair of horrid eyes staring from beyond a timeless void.

Not even Luke could withstand the hideous glare. He fell as if struck by a falling wall. His descent was fast and hard and Luke heard himself scream. The black charred hand could be seen everywhere, clawing at the fabric of space, creating abominations with a mere touch. Some possessing tendrils and tentacles, others, hard shells behind which they exterminated others.

Unexpectedly, Luke landed on his feet, as if he had only jumped an inch. He found himself within a throne room. At his feet, he saw the slain body of a man with wings and great stature, lying on the floor. The entirety of the winged man's frame was contained within golden armor, save for his head. Looking at him, Luke knew that when he was alive, the winged man had been powerful.

Luke's attention was soon diverted when he saw two other men of equal stature to the fallen demigod facing each other. One was clad in an armor of gold, holding in his hand a flaming sword. An aura of divinity emanated from his being; the golden crown upon his head was not needed to prove his godhood. His bronzed face looked with stern enmity at his opponent.

The other was clad in dark armor, with features distorted by darkness and evil. Luke's attention was drawn to the man's sigil; an inhuman eye with a vertical slit of a pupil over a downward pointing arrow.

With a roar, the demonic man attacked the divine man in gold, attacking him with the claws on his right hand, and the giant mace in his left; the divine man met him with his own sword, blazing hot with rage.

The ground shook and Luke fell once more.

Once more, he fell on his feet. He could feel that he was somewhere different, yet there was a hint of the darkness he had felt before. He turned, and was nearly startled to see a young man standing there.

The young man looked back at Luke in a very strange and disturbing way. Unlike the three men Luke had seen before, this youth was not at all tall, and quite slight in frame. Yet Luke knew that this young man, who seemed more like a boy, was much stronger than he seemed. He wore a very strange looking uniform; but what caught his attention was the small animal with pointed ears sitting on his shoulder. The small creature was a predator, there was no way to deny it. Its fur was black and it had a golden collar around its neck with foreign inscriptions on it. The animal's eyes seemed lidless, rimmed with fire, with a black slit of a pupil which reminded Luke of the sigil he had seen before. The animal's claws were dug deep into the boy's flesh but no blood seeped out. The animal was doing its best to puncture the boy's skin, but unsuccessfully.

Suddenly, the animal hissed at Luke. It was enough to hurl him back and have him falling again.

He saw himself on a world; what looked bulky droids at first were fighting insect shaped aliens armed with ray guns. Using the Force, Luke felt life within the metal shells; those weren't droids, but humans in heavy armor.

An explosion rocked Luke and sent him flying into the control room of yet another ship. He saw a man with a grizzled beard, dressed in red with a peculiar looking medallion hanging from his neck, studying computer-generated simulations of a black hole. Standing behind him was a menacing red droid. Luke surveyed the room, and found that there were others present, men garbed in cloaks, wearing featureless argent masks. The men weren't dead, but they weren't alive either.

The ship shook; Luke fell again. He was outside again; the clouds were heavy and in the horizon, he could see large structures of metal. Again, Luke turned to see three people. A man and a woman stood on one side. On the other, a thin man dressed in the gaudy garb of a clown, with a comically long nose. However, the thin man himself was not at all comical. Darkness clung jealously to him.

A blinding light struck Luke, but it quickly faded. He found himself in a more pleasant, verdant field, not unlike Naboo; but for whatever reason, it felt more real than any planet Luke had ever been on in his life. The colors, the smells, the very air itself seemed more authentic to him. Like in his previous visions however, Luke's attention was quickly diverted from his surroundings towards the individuals within them.

In this case, Luke found himself staring at a tall man dressed in gray, speaking to a large animal; a predator, judging by the forward facing eyes, the claws and sharp teeth. Luke could feel that the animal, though not tame, was possessed of a great intelligence and power, surpassing that of the crowned man clad in gold. The beast was many heads taller than the man with which it was speaking with; its fur was gold while a darker mane of hair covered its head and neck, leaving the face exposed. It took a moment for Luke to see that the large animal was similar to the smaller black one on the young man's shoulder, but they couldn't be more different in their fundamental nature.

The man clasped his hands together; when he separated them, a coruscating lens rested in the palm of his hand. The noble beast then let out a roar.

In an instant, Luke found himself again in the city, staring at the creature holding the long, multi-keyed instrument; this time however, the city was not empty. Now a crowd of similar creatures looked at Luke.

He stepped forward to speak to the one holding the instrument. Luke wanted to know the meaning of the visions he had been given.

The creature waved one of its hands.

Suddenly, Luke's eyes opened, and he was once again the summit of the mountain. He looked up. A familiar sensation overtook him. Han and Leia were approaching.

* * *

By the time Luke had made his way down, the Millenium Falcon had already touched the landing field. The ramp came down promptly; Leia, Han and Chewie stepped out. Bail and Bree were both already there, which didn't surprise Luke at all. The twins were both dutiful children, even if they weren't kids anymore. That got Luke thinking of his own past, and the life he could have had. He shook such thoughts away; more pressing matters demanded his attention.

After having heartily greeted her children, Leia advanced towards Luke. Her outstretched arms quickly went around him.

"Luke! How have you been?" she asked putting her hands on his bearded face.

"I'm healthy," answered Luke. He remembered his recent vision on the mountain top, and wondered how to breach the subject to her; he knew that he had to.

"Are you sure old man?" asked Han with the grin he always had. "You look like you were caught in a storm"

Luke raised an eyebrow. Han could be surprisingly observant.

"I thought I was a kid," Luke replied jokingly.

"Not any more, especially when you want to be a kid" said Han. The look on his face was of one looking back fondly at times which he could never get back.

Bail cut in between the two old men; familiarity allowed this. Han would have smacked anyone else.

"Have you guys eaten yet? Those rations don't make a good meal you know, let alone a fine dinner," he asked.

Chewie let out a cheerful growl. Han chuckled.

"Son, me and Chewie have had plenty banquets with those rations. But they do get stale after a while. What have you got?"

"Runyip steaks and buckwheat noodles. With gravy," Bree said, finally breaking her silence. "Threepio's cooking"

Han let out a groan.

Chewie answered by growling. He was clearly happy to eat a steak, no matter who cooked it.

"Are you sure Chewie? You heard the girl. It's that bucket of bolts who's cooking. Come to think of it, our rations have quite the nutritional value," said Han trying to save himself. The Wookie swiped at Han's head playfully, while voicing out something.

"Stop joking around Han. None of us wants to eat that slop," Leia said. "I'm sure Threepio is a good cook"

"He's supposed to be," added Bail. Han shrugged his shoulders and looked at Luke.

"Don't blame me," said Luke, holding up his hands.

The twins picked up their parents' luggage, allowing Han and Chewie to walk around with their hands empty.

Artoo suddenly rolled in, tweeting and beeping.

"No Artoo, this is going to be a family affair. You may ask Master Syndulla to join if he wants to. Have the small table set in the blue cabin. We'll eat there," Luke told the droid. Artoo beeped at Han, Leia and Chewie before rolling away.

"This is going to be quite the dinner," Han said, possibly thinking about Threepio overcooking the steak. "I hope we catch up as much as we can,"

The look on Han's face was filled with optimism.

Luke definitely had to tell them about his vision.

* * *

The dinner had been a joyful one; no one dared ruin it by starting a serious conversation. Han was surprised and even praised Threepio. Nonetheless, it was clear that a serious conversation was needed. It wasn't just Luke, who needed to speak about his vision, especially to Leia; his sister too had something to say to him, that was as clear to him as the water he had drank at the table. After Threepio had carried away the dessert tray – and received a begrudging compliment – Luke got up and motioned to Leia and Han.

Both stood up, and followed Luke outside.

He walked as far away from everyone else as he could. Luke didn't want his nephew and niece to hear a word; he certainly didn't want Jacen Syndulla to get involved.

Fortunately, Chewie was keeping all three of them busy. The Wookie could be very perceptive.

Luke stopped next to a tree and looked at the two most important people of his past who were still alive. He found himself at a loss for words. The Jedi Master had no idea how to broach the matter in a delicate way.

"You haven't had any word of Kyp Durron, have you?" asked Luke. He didn't know why that came out; it took a second for him to feel that his student's fate was related to what he had seen in his vision.

Leia shook her head.

"I'm sorry Luke, but no"

"None of you have to feel guilty about it. Durron knew what he was doing. He came to Leia; he wanted to finish the Empire once and for all" interposed Han, clearly trying to help.

Luke let out a sigh.

"He's dead"

Han's expression became somber.

"Luke," he started to say, before stopping himself, and finally adding "Are you sure?"

Luke nodded.

"I felt it. From here," Luke raised his arms, gesturing towards Javin IV as a whole. His arms fell back down again. "Han, Leia, I've every reason to believe that he was killed by a new threat, one far greater than Carnor Jax's Empire; greater even than Palpatine's"

Han and Leia exchanged meaningful glances. Leia seemed to know more than she was letting on.

"What do you know?" Luke asked.

"There's been a few incidents in Imperial space – CIS space too – that have been difficult to explain," said Han. If anyone knew about the state of interstellar space, it would be him. His merchant fleet – the largest privately owned fleet in the galaxy – crossed every corner of known space, and some bits of unknown space; it was his business to know what was going on.

"A few of my captains have reported some pretty strange behavior from the peoples living on the border of the Empire and the CIS. Now, we both know that the Imperials and Confederates are not at all friends, and that extends to the citizens of each nation. They need go-betweens in order to trade, which is where my fleet comes into the picture"

"What changed?" Luke asked.

Han let out a chuckle.

"In some systems along the border, people got friendly with one another. My captains tell me that the Confederates and Imperials were trading with each other directly. Too suddenly, might I add; no one loves their neighbors after feuding with each other just like that," said Han. Then he added, "They also seemed subdued. Luke, we know the Imperials too well. As for the Confederates, they've been hard-headed nerf-herders since they declared their independence," Han paused. "That's how they were until now. They've gotten a lot easier to deal with. With the Imperials at least. Whenever they spoke to my captains, they were insistent that they didn't need the services of my fleet anymore"

Leia raised her hand and placed it on Han's arm.

"That's not all," she said.

Luke said nothing. He just waited.

Leia didn't take too long.

"My agents have been delivering reports which I have a hard time understanding. All of them coming from the border region between the Empire and the Confederacy of Independent Systems. They follow the same pattern. A ship sends a distress signal; help comes only to find that the ship has fought off the assailants; some time later, the ship disappears. This has happened with Stations as well. Relations between the Empire and the CIS are strained and the two are close to declaring war. A war which will suck in the New Republic; and there are many Senators who want a war with the Empire," she said, sighing.

"Tell him," Han said, nudging her gently.

Leia grunted.

"Shortly before coming here, I got a visit," Leia paused for a moment, "from the Aquilian Ranger,"

That got Luke's attention. The moment his sister mentioned the mysterious agent of the CIS, his thoughts went back to Mara. It was much like travelling back in time; Luke was back on Garqi and Mara was there with him.

What could have been…

"What did he say?" Luke asked.

Han and Leia just stared at him for a moment.

"He told me that there was a conspiracy against the galaxy. At first, he suspected the New Republic of stirring conflict between the Empire and the CIS, but that he was convinced that it was something else. Something worse," replied Leia.

"He's not wrong," Luke remarked, more to himself than to Han or Leia.

"There's more," Han said his arms crossed.

Leia held up a small holoprojector, and turned it on. The crude sketch of an ugly ship appeared, hovering over her hand.

"The Aquilian Ranger gave me this sketch. One of the few people to survive these mystery assaults with a sense of mind and to not disappear said that this ship was there, behind the others. Unknown fighters came out of this ship, as did a horrible voice"

Suddenly, Luke caught a look on a sigil, which had been drawn on the ship. An inhuman eye, over a downward pointing arrow. It was enough to have him reeling.

"What's wrong Luke?" Leia asked with concern.

"I have something to tell you" Luke replied, looking back and forth at the Solos.

* * *

**4**

* * *

"We were lucky to find the boy before the Enemy did"

"So was the boy. A little bit longer in that derelict ship, and the Dark Spirit would have taken hold of his body. If your people hadn't found him in time we'd all be in serious trouble"

"You are correct Mr. Kinnison. I am disturbed by this discovery though. The Dark Spirit is unexpectedly strong. I had been told – we all had – that _he_ would never arise again, that _he_ had lost the best part of the strength that was native to _him_ in _his_ beginning, and that forever _he_ would be maimed. Then how is _he_ here? How did _he_ find himself in physical form, even if as a lowly cat? _He_ was supposed to be removed!"

"_His_ Master is gaining strength; and a soul cannot be destroyed, no matter how evil it is. You can't even shatter it to pieces without it coming back together again"

"That was the other one's fate. I know little about that one Mr. Kinnison. What's his purpose in all of this?"

"The same purpose he had before his fall, when he was still faithful to his father: to be a Warmaster, a general and conquer in the service of someone else. Given what happened to his soul, he could not reemerge in his native reality, so now he's in a different reality, in a different galaxy, in a different time, leading the main charge of the Enemy's conquest. I can't tell you exactly why that galaxy and time period is important, but I have my own theory"

"I would like to hear it, if you don't mind, Mr. Kinnison"

"Please take into account that I'm just speculating, but I do know for a fact that that particular galaxy, at that particular time, has made a curious imprint within the Cosmic All. Although the natives do not realize it – most of them at least – it is in a state of energetic flux, which is to say, that the galaxy is akin to a scale which can be tipped either way"

"No. That cannot be. I know of many other realities containing amazing amounts of energy. Why not target them?"

"Well, you see the weakness of my theory. But then again, why not that galaxy and time and reality? Someone could have lost the roll of the die. Either way, there's no point in speculating. We need to act"

"If you need to act, why not now? Why not call upon your sisters to aid you?"

"Our Enemy is a bit stronger than that, and he can't be allowed to escape, which any false move would allow him to do. We'll have to rely on proxies to resolve the Warmaster side of our problem. Perhaps this boy will be of some use"

"If you say so. But a warning to you Mr. Kinnison. Norstrilians can be hard to deal with. I know this. I've met them"

"I know. This one is rather peculiar. When he was twelve, he was sent away from his home planet – supposedly in secret – and began his training as a Pinlighter. He's a runt you see; a runt with a perfectly normal brother as far as Norstrilian society is concerned. Granted, he's as strong as any regular Norstrilian, who had regular telepathic abilities, but you know the Norstrilians; they have to remain simple and hardworking; and very very tough and strong. They can't overpopulate Old North Australia and allow their wealth to make them soft. So they cull their unfit young when they reach sixteen. This boy here should have died two years ago!"

"And?"

"He'll do. Besides, he's already woken up. I bet you he's been listing to a huge chunk of our conversation"

* * *

Ted Kelly opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He couldn't, as he was tightly strapped into his bed with the bedsheets, apart from his right arm, which was free.

He wasn't surprised to see a man looking him; a man with strong features, almost as tall as a Norstrilian, and looking nearly as strong. He wore a gray uniform, which Ted, in all of his journeys, had never seen.

It was the other man next to him that had Ted Kelly's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. He was quite tall; taller than a Norstrilian, beautiful, polished, elegant, pale with strong hands and white eyes. Ted Kelly did not need to be told what that man was.

One of the Daimoni! Descendants of Men from the First Age of Space, who had fled into the Up-and-Out before the bombs went up and came back down. They were near mythical, but their existence could not be denied, not with all of the edifices they had left behind, including the imposing and indestructible wineglass structure of Earthport. The Norstrilians had kept their distance from the Daimoni due to their pride; a decision which they came to regret.

Unlike every other human in the galaxy, the Daimoni did not need _stroon_ to be immortal, nor did they need Pinlighters to sail between the stars without being molested; if they did live in normal space, and not in Space 3 as some were wont to say.

The other man walked forward. Ted tried to _spiek_ to him, but for whatever reason, he heard nothing but a low rumbling in his head and a sudden sense of dizziness came to him.

He tried to _hier_ them. Again, he felt nothing but a rumble; the dizziness he had felt before was more subdued.

"Hello there Mr. Kelly. My name is Christopher Kinnison. You can call me Kit," said the man, walking to him and extending his hand.

Baffled by the rumble in his head, Ted lifted his hand and took Kinnison's, giving it a good shake.

"This is…" Kinnison began to say, looking back at the Daimoni.

"Arthur" said the Daimoni, completing what Kinnison was about to say.

"Arthur and I were having a conversation about you and your unusual predicament" said Kinnison, stepping away from Ted's bed.

"My predicament?" asked Ted in confusion. Slowly, he remembered what had happened before; the rats, and then space itself cracking open; his fellow Pinlighters of the _Red Running River_. "Where am I?"

"I won't tell you where you are, but for the moment, you are safe. We found you aboard your ship. You were the only survivor," said Kinnison.

Ted didn't know what to say. No member of the _Red Running River's_ crew was close to him, but they were peers. Suddenly, he remembered the struggle with Tevildo's soul.

"Tevildo?" he said suddenly looking around, lost. Again, he felt nothing but a low rumble in his head when he tried to use his telepathy.

"Is that how you call the soul bonded to yours?" asked Arthur.

"It's the name of my partner," replied Ted, and then he added, aware that not everyone knew Pinlighter jargon, "The black cat with the nasty eyes"

"A weaker name than the other ones he's often used," interposed Kinnison. "Mr. Kelly, we'll be frank. Due to the accident you suffered, you are now bonded to a very dangerous, and evil spirit, one strongly associated to the Dark Enemy of All"

"What?" asked Ted, now confused by the course of the conversation. He had heard mentions of an enemy, said with a grave tone. As for the incident which had placed him in this mysterious setting, it did not feel like an accident. Ted placed his hands over his eyes and groaned. Memories of seeing his colleague have their souls ripped out were haunting. "Did that Enemy of yours do this?"

Kinnison shook his head.

"Oh no. That was an accident, although you can say that it was an accident caused by the Enemy's actions; one with effects oddly similar to a Dragon attack. There's been a lot of damage done across many realities that are similar in nature. Few of them are actually intentional, not that the Enemy is concerned over that. His attack is however, targeted towards one reality, one galaxy and one time period. I fear that this is meant as a first step for a far more ambitious move," he said.

Ted rubbed his eyes and then his temples.

"I don't understand a damned thing," he said at last.

Kinnison crossed his arms and looked pensive.

"Truth be told, I don't understand everything myself. But I do know that all of reality is in grave danger, and you unfortunately, have been thrust into the middle of it"

"What do you mean?" asked Ted, bemused. Although the young Norstrilian understood the concept that an entire reality might be in jeopardy, the rational part of him knew it was absurd.

"If only I could tell you with clarity. Unfortunately, I can't use names; those are charged with power and are dangerous to speak even here. I can't even tell you the most commonly used name of the Dark Spirit bonded to your soul," said Kinnson with a sigh. "What I can tell you, is that your unfortunate accident has forced your participation in this war across realities. You have been bonded to an extremely dangerous Dark Spirit, one with strong ties to the Enemy. If I were to let you go, the Enemy might track you down; worse yet, the Dark Spirit could take over your body and consume your soul, and join the Enemy as he had many ages ago. I can't let that happen."

For a moment, Ted just stared at Kinnison and Arthur. Realization came to him soon enough.

"You're going to kill me?" he asked, somewhat angered.

"If only that was an option," said Arthur.

Kinnison raised a hand, stopping the Daimoni from speaking any further.

"We won't do that. And we won't keep you imprisoned. Both options are too dangerous," he said. "Even here, the Enemy might detect his lieutenant, ending this place as a sanctuary of a sorts"

"Then what do you intend to do?" Ted asked, skeptically looking at both.

"I intend to deputize you," answered Kinnison.

Ted looked at the man. He then turned to look at Arthur. He tried to _hier_ what they were thinking, but again, he felt the low rumbling in his head. The young Norstrilian was beginning to see that this was a continuing problem that wouldn't go away. He tried to _spiek_, to communicate telepathically with the two men standing before him. It felt like turning on the engine of an ancient automobile with no fuel and a dead battery.

Arthur and Kinnison traded meaningful glances, which could only mean one thing.

"What did you do to me?" Ted asked, anger welling up.

"I'm sorry son," said Kinnison. "We had to remove your telepathy"

Flushed with anger, Ted tried to get out of the bed he was in; however, the bed sheets pinning him into it, were stronger than he had thought and wouldn't let go. The Daimoni were known for their indestructible buildings; Norstrilia's government had bought some and used them as fortified satellites; it wasn't a stretch to imagine that everything else they had would be made to be indestructible. Still, Ted Kelly was, in spite of the fact that he was a runt, 'Red' Simon Kelly's son. He strained and used all of the strength he could muster to tear the sheets off him.

He nearly managed to tear a nick in the fabric before Arthur stepped forward and raised his hand. Ted Kelly's head suddenly fell back down on the pillow, his arm went limp and his body felt weak.

"Mr. Kelly, please calm down," said Kinnison.

"How can I? I can't _spiek_ or _hier_ because of you! I'm a Pinlighter! I need to be a telepath in order to do my damned job!" exclaimed Ted, still quite angry.

"If we hadn't removed your telepathy you'd no longer exist! That Dark Spirit, the cat Tevildo, was clawing at your mind when we found you, using your telepathic link in order to do so. He would have devoured everything that makes you what you are; your body would have become a fleshy suit for a hellish creature in league with the forces of evil," Kinnison's hand went to his pocket. He took out what looked like an ornament or a jewel, but was in fact a lens radiating coruscating light, which he held with his naked hand. Kinnison walked around Ted's bed, towards the right side; he pressed the lens against his wrist. Ted felt a sudden and strong jolt throughout every fiber of his being.

Ted sat up and saw that both Kinnison and Arthur were at the foot of the bed. He lifted his right arm and saw that strapped to his wrist was a bracelet of imperishable, unbreakable metal; and set upon it was the Lens, shining in lambent splendor. Ted Kelly was awash with realization; this was a moment of great importance, equivalent to his investiture as a Pinlighter; nay – this was greater. He looked at Kinnison and Arthur again; now he knew that all that they had done to him had to pass, and that the stakes were extremely high. Kinnison now seemed greater than the Daimoni, almost like a god of ancient mythology.

Through the corner of his eye, Ted saw a black tail swinging over his shoulder. He turned, and was startled to see Tevildo. The entirety of the cat's body was out of focus, seemingly made out of smoke and ash; but his eyes still blazed at him. Luckily, that was all that the cat could do. Ted could feel with great relief that the cat's power had been neutralized. At least for now. Ted turned away.

"That is the Lens. From here on forth, though you may primarily consider yourself a Pinlighter, you are also a Lensman," Kinnison said. It took a second for Ted to realize that Kinnison hadn't opened his mouth. He could _hier_! That also meant he could _spiek_! Kinnison smiled "The Lens does offer you the ability to use telepathy; you may even converse with other intelligences, even though they may possess no organs of speech or of hearing, no matter how alien they are to you. It will also protect you from the Dark Spirit, and other ruinous powers. The Lens is no ordinary bauble; it is endowed with a sort of pseudo-life, though not really alive, as we understand the term. The Lens is permanently bonded to you, and cannot be removed by anyone except its wearer without dismemberment – as hard as that might be. It glows as long as its rightful owner wears it; it ceases to glow at the moment its owner draws his last breath, and it disintegrates shortly thereafter. If by chance you were to be taken alive and your Lens removed, that Lens will kill in a space of seconds any living being who attempts to wear it. As long as it glows-as long as it is in circuit with its living owner-it is harmless; but in the dark condition its pseudo-life interferes so strongly with any life to which it is not attuned that that life is destroyed forthwith"

Ted looked at the Lens on his wrist and shuddered. He was glad that it was attuned to him.

"Who made this?" asked Ted. "Was it you?"

"I did" Kinnison said, smiling proudly. "The first Lenses were made by the Arisians, a mighty race of beings who have now ascended to a higher plane of existence – they too, I might add, are fighting the Enemy in their own front – but I and my sisters have made a few Lenses of our own. They're just as good as the old ones and they offer their own benefits. Lensmen will always be needed where evil arises to threaten the innocent"

Silence fell upon them. Ted Kelly was overwhelmed. He knew what he had to do. However, he didn't feel ready. He felt half-baked and ill-prepared.

"Don't worry Mr. Kelly" said Kinnison, now speaking with his mouth instead of his mind, "I've already thought about your training. Most Lensmen have five years of arduous training. You're most unusual because you received the Lens before you were trained, but you will be trained anyway. You've already undergone the Phillips procedure – a surgical operation upon the pineal gland which allows you to regenerate any part of your body which has been severed or otherwise lost. So of course, I have every intention to see that you know to use a space-axe and a Delameter, amongst other things which a good Lensman must know."

Kinnison stepped aside. Arthur moved forwards, holding in his hands two metallic caps. Ted Kelly knew very well what they were. Doctors used them in surgeries to provide pleasure to their patients as they operated on them; the Instrumentality gave them to those who wanted to remain useless to society, not providing them with the valuable life-extending_ stroon_ in exchange for thousands of dream years engaged in all forms of debauchery. The blissfuls, as those people called them. Ted called them something else.

"A dreamy?" Ted asked.

"A shared dream" replied Kinnison "It will allow you to have five years worth of training in just a half of an hour. It's the best I can do. Time is a luxury we do cannot afford"

Ted sat still as Arthur placed the cap on his head.

* * *

**5**

* * *

Another ship had been captured. The man who had once called himself the Mule, First Citizen of the Union of Worlds could feel the final defeat of the Warmaster's victims, even though his apartment within the _**Vengeful Spirit II**_ was shielded to block his mind from the surroundings. This was to protect his own sanity from the chaotic malice permeating the cursed vessel. It didn't always work, such as now, or at times when the man once called the Mule was asleep and assailed by terrible nightmares.

All he could do to keep the chaos away from his mentallic mind was play his Visi-Sonor; what had once been used for offense, was now being used as a defensive device.

The chime rang.

One of his attendants, a humaniform robot made to look like a young human female, stood up and walked towards the door, disappearing into the foyer. The man once known as the Mule set down the Visi-Sonor carefully.

The robot maiden returned, accompanied by Maximillian. The red mechanical man was in human form this time. He looked like a young man with dark hair and handsome features, dressed in red, with a medallion hanging from a red ribbon bound around his neck.

His eyes were bright red.

Maximillian was an enigma. He was a robot, with a robot body, but at times, he could shift his form to that of a man of flesh and blood; according to him, a rejuvenated version of his creator's body. Maximillian only ever spoke when he was human.

"Greetings Magnifico!" said Maximillian, using a mock enthusiastic tone.

"Another assignment?" asked Magnifico Giganticus.

"Yes" answered the red robot. "Put on your suit. The Warmaster wants you in the shuttle promptly"

Magnifico got on his feet, as a robot maiden walked to the closet and opened it. She pulled out a baggy, oversized suit with a large, spherically shaped helmet, big enough for his long nose. Quickly, she took it to Magnifico.

Speed was a virtue within the _**Vengeful Spirit II**_, and Magnifico made sure to quickly don the suit that allowed him to walk through the _**Vengeful Spirit II**_ in safety. Two of the robot maidens helped clasp his helmet to the suit.

It was now airtight and isolated from the surrounding environment.

As he watched, Maximillian said nothing. Once Magnifico Giganticus was ready, the crimson man of iron turned his back, and walked towards the foyer – towards the door. Magnifico followed.

The corridor outside of Magnifico's apartment was as expected: dark and lugubrious. The helmet on his head may have protected his mind from any harmful influence of Chaos, but his eyes could still see. He expected worse ahead.

Maximillian entered the turbolift as soon as the doors were opened; Magnifico followed after him, and the doors closed. The descent was rough; at any moment, it felt as if the shaking turbolift might fall.

It didn't. Like every other time before, it stopped at the hangar bay; the doors opened. Maximillian and Magnifico moved forwards.

Magnifico's eyes rolled to his left. Through the corner of his eye, the mutant could see one of the Warmaster's brutes, an eight foot tall monster in black and gold armor, with his master's sigil, a red eye within a circle of arrows ; still, the human behemoth was dwarfed by his Lord Primarch, and Magnifico had no intention of seeing him. In his hand, the brute held a massive gun which looked primitive and ancient, but which Magnifico knew to be horribly lethal.

He proceeded on, to see the transport vehicle reserved for him. As usual, it was being manned by Maximillian's sentry robots; Magnifico was relieved. He feared the robots less than the Warmaster's monsters.

Eagerly he entered the ship.

An hour outside of the _**Vengeful Spirit II**_ was time well spent.

* * *

The station was unlike any other structure Magnifico had seen since entering this reality with the Warmaster. Apart from all of the blood, the walls, floors and ceilings were all glossy and white; in some spots, the walls arched over the floor; curves abounded.

Dead bodies were abundant. Magnifico had to step over several bodies of men in exotic armors. Each man was identical to the next – clones. Good ones by the look of them. Magnifico could not find a flaw in their features.

Sentry robots, shattered and burned, were also strewn about. The clones had fought back. These battles were not one-sided. Magnifico wondered how long it would take for the Warmaster to start using his brutes in black armor.

He wondered how Maximillian would take it if the Warmaster did replace his robots with his own, distorted men. Magnifico knew that Maximillian held an important role within the Warmaster's Mournival. He had built the robots servicing the _**Vengeful Spirit II**_, and the humaniform robot maidens serving as companions to Magnifico. The mutant suspected the robot had built the _**Vengeful Spirit II**_ as well.

A distinctive rippling caught his attention. Magnifico scowled.

"Mag-Nee-Fee-Co!" exclaimed a woman suddenly. Magnifico raised his head and looked forward, the direction from which the voice had come from. Lady Alia Atreides was walking towards him. "A pity you did not come sooner"

For quite a few reasons, he just couldn't like her. Rarely did he interact with her; only when he was ordered out to a conquered ship or station, or on the observation deck where he went to keep cabin fever away – he was thankful for the turbolift which directly connected his apartment to the only verdant and lively place within the ship, which allowed him to pretend he was back on Kalgan. Whenever he did interact with Lady Atreides, she was rude, mocking and mean-spirited. He was thankful that she was more concerned with her little boys when they were on the ship.

Magnifico looked around to see that some of the clones had not been killed by the Sentry robots blaster fire. Sword marks were clearly visible on a few of the bodies. Three severed heads were scatted along the floor.

"You need not be afraid, little stick man. I've taken care of the opposition, as usual. The leftovers are in the other room," said Lady Atreides with a sneer.

He didn't need to be told that. Magnfico could feel the minds of his targets; they felt different from the others he had worked on before.

Lady Atreides stepped aside; Magnifico walked towards the door separating him from his designated targets. One of the Sentry robots accompanying him moved forward and opened the door for him. Magnifico was quite surprised by what he saw.

Within a circular room, sitting on a globular shaped chair, Magnifico saw an alien. He was stunned; for all of the time spent in this reality, he had only ever seen humans. He had been told about the existence of non-human intelligent life, and this was the confirmation. Magnifico just stood there, looking at the alien with amazement. The creature was slender; tall, by the way it sat on the chair. It's skin was white with a bluish tint; its head was oblong, and set upon a long, slender neck, as if it were a giraffe.

"You are a peculiar looking human," said the alien quite suddenly, jolting Magnifico from his stupor.

"I'm a mutant," Magnifico replied as he cleared his throat. He peered into the alien's mind. The mutant would have to be careful. "What are you, besides being an alien?"

Magnifico had to restrain himself from jumbling the alien's emotions. The Warmaster wanted this thing alive, even if his own men would think and argue otherwise.

Fortunately, the alien had emotions somewhat similar to those of a human being. The process of conversion could be tricky, but Magnifico was sure he could do it.

The alien frowned. Magnifico could perceive the ripples associated with annoyance.

"Why do humans always speak in such rude manner? Do you not know what a Kaminoan is?" said the alien with aggravation.

"No," replied the man who was once the Mule, as he became more accustomed to the alien. "I'm new to these parts"

Magnifico played with the waves of the alien's mind to see if he would talk more.

"We Kaminoans are renowned for our talents in cloning. Indeed, we are the best cloners in the galaxy!" said the Kaminoan with pride.

The exchange was enough for Magnifico to see how the alien's brain functioned. He began the process of conversion.

"Cloners heh? What sort of clones do you make? Military clones?" asked Magnifico, as he touched the metaphorical dials of the Kaminoan's mind. This was also a good way of obtaining some information, Magnifico had to admit to himself. Magnifico did not know all of the Warmaster's plans. Just by revealing himself to be a cloner, the Kaminoan shed some light on the Warmaster's scheme. He was not going to rely on the Sentry robots for long. He wondered if the Warmaster intended to clone his brutes.

"For the most part, yes. There are many independent factions within the Unknown Regions who request soldiers to fight in their wars," said the alien as Magnifico fiddled with his mind.

"Do you provide for their weaponry?" asked Magnifico. The alien's mind required much more subtle handing than he thought.

"Yes, but that is according to the customer's discretion. If they want to outfit the clones, they can, but they must give us the gear so that we can train the clones properly," said the alien more absentmindedly.

"You train the clones?" Magnifico continued with his fiddling. He was beginning to see the make-up of the alien's mind.

"Certainly. If we're selling them as soldiers that is. Within this station you'll find the finest training facilities, providing preparation for numerous environments," the alien continued to say.

Magnifico nodded as he continued to delicately turn the dials of the alien's brain.

* * *

Converting the Kaminoan cloners within the station was taking much longer then Magnifico had anticipated. It was an educational experience. The mutant was now certain that the Warmaster intended to replace Maximillian's Sentry robots as his main military force. Considering the brute's attitudes towards the robots – the way in which they contemptuously called them 'men of iron' – it had been coming for a while. How Maximillian would take it remained to be seen. The situation could get interesting. Perhaps not. Although Maximillian had built the robots, he held them in little regard. They were tools to be discarded.

At least this time, Magnifico didn't have to employ the usual deceptions the Warmaster had him do, sending off survivors with false information. The mutant didn't see the point of them.

There were more cloners to be converted, and it would take at least another day for the task to be complete. Magnifico was quite thankful for that. The Warmaster had allowed him to use the quarters within the station to stay during that period of time. He needed a good night's sleep, and twenty-four hours away from the _**Vengeful Spirit II**_ was good. Magnifico anticipated a nice and quiet night with no nightmares to trouble him.

* * *

**6**

* * *

Another time.

Another place.

Gradually, Benjamin Sisko's memory of what he had been told within the Celestial Temple, drifted away, like a leaf floating down river. He wasn't disturbed; Sisko knew that this would happen, and as a matter of fact, had to happen. Ruinous powers were at work; beings of great psionic power. One could not just blunder into a battle with such beings.

So much was at stake. Sisko thought of Kasidy and Jake. For the first time he wondered how much _time _had passed for them. If he returned from the Celestial Temple, would it seem like an hour had passed?

Would Kasidy remarry?

Would Jake be a father?

Sisko took a deep breath. Such thoughts could spell murder in a situation like this; dwelling on a future that might not come to pass. But they were out there, and he had to make sure that the Universe was safe for them.

He studied his console before him. Sisko found that he enjoyed the nifty little shuttle he was in. Upon receiving it, he was told that it was a replica of a Federation vehicle developed in the Delta quadrant by the crew of the lost Voyager; it was called a Delta Flyer. Whoever had designed this little vessel must have been a pilot; the manual steering column allowed for more precise control of the ship, and the physical buttons and dials were more intuitive.

Nonetheless, it was much smaller than the original, being more close to a type-F shuttle in size than its original, which meant that there was less space than there was supposed to be, and every aspect of the shuttle's flight was of the sole responsibility of the pilot. Sisko could not remember if someone from Starfleet had designed this smaller variant, or if the Prophets had made it for him.

Sisko checked the scanners. Unknown stars surrounded him. It would take some time for the computer to calculate where he was, or to find anything. The words of the Prophets rang in his ears:

_Be patient._

Easy to say. Sisko turned back. The portable replicator sat there in the space behind him. That and a cubic computer. They both had a purpose; by now however, Sisko had forgotten. He turned his attention to the viewscreen.

All he could see were unknown stars, which Sisko did not yet recognize.

The scanners seemed to come to life in an instant. Sisko looked at them, studying the information given via the monitors.

According to the scanners, the shuttle was just 423,098 kilometers away from a solid object. More readings came in. According to the shuttle's computer, it was artificial. Additional information stated that the object was cylindrical, around a thousand kilometers in diameter and ten thousand in length. Sisko had the shuttle accelerate towards the cylinder.

He soon saw it on his viewscreen. It had a perfectly smooth surface; now more than ever was it clear that this was an artificially made object. The cylinder itself was dark gray from one tip to the other and seemed to be made of carbon nano-tubes.

By now, Sisko could positively identify the structure as a McKendree Cylinder, a type of space habitat which generated artificial gravity by spinning around its axis.

Oddly enough Sisko didn't see an identical cylinder next to it, in order to cancel out the wobble effect that such a structure would suffer from, given its spin. Whatever engineer had designed this particular cylinder had found a solution to the wobble problem.

Nothing seemed to stand out on the cylinder's surface, until Sisko's sensors detected a dome on one of the tips; it was quite small when compared with the surrounding area, but big enough to allow the Delta Flyer to pass through easily.

Sisko piloted the Flyer towards the dome. At that moment, the onboard computers lit up even more. The activity was intense. Sisko checked his computer; it was communicating with whatever existed inside the cylinder.

In a second, the Flyer's engines turned off. Sisko's muscles tensed, but he remained calm and in his seat, waiting in silence for what would happen next.

The sensors showed that the cylinder was shifting its position, until the end with the dome on it was aligned with Sisko's Flyer.

Sisko felt a slight tremor. The shuttle was pulled into the cylinder's dome by a beam of incredible strength and intensity.

* * *

It all happened within a short space of time; only an hour. As soon as the beam had caught Sisko's shuttle, it pulled it in. The dome opened, closed behind him, and then a large airlock opened. The airlock closed behind the shuttle, and another opened. Only then did Sisko's enter the cylinder. A metallic frame wrapped around the Flyer and tugged it along the cylinder's interior.

Sisko turned away from his monitors to see the cylinder's interior.

The geometry seemed to be divided into two halves, by a momentously wide body of water. Several smaller canals, appearing as thin threads before Sisko's eyes, radiated from the central cylindrical sea on both sides.

For a matter of convenience, Sisko decided to view the side within which he had entered as the northern end of the cylinder; using the magnifiers on his ship's computer, Sisko could see that the southern end a giant cone jutted out; this cone was surrounded by other, much smaller cones. Although Sisko had no idea how this station functioned, he could surmise that the cones were part of a propulsion system; another oddity, given the limited mobility of space habitats.

The landscape along the interior of the cylinder was made up of woodlands and what seemed to be farms. Hills and elevations broke up what would have been flat land; the irregularity of the ground would help any inhabitant have the illusion of being on a planetary surface, and not within a cylinder with land which curved upwards. Sisko could see at least three cities and a monumental tower next to the northern shore of the cylindrical sea.

Light was provided by a luminescent globe hovering along the center of the cylinder's axis. Whether heat was similarly supplied remained to be seen.

The metallic frame lowered Sisko's shuttle downwards. The Starfleet captain saw that it was coming down near what seemed to be a hotel, on the outskirts of one of the three cities.

Now he could see that every building seemed identical to the ones on Earth; the hotel itself seemed Neo-classical in its architecture, with Ionic and Corinthian styled columns, Roman arches, and bulbous, onion shaped domes.

Sisko's assessment that the edifice his ship was approaching was a hotel seemed to be confirmed with every second he got closer. He could see a large pool, a maze garden and a massive greenhouse adjoining the structure. More importantly, Sisko saw a patch of chalk-white land shaped like an ellipse which measured several miles in circumference, just in front of the hotel's main entrance. It was at the edge of the circle that the metal frame made a vertical descent.

The Flyer's computer opened the landing gear. A couple seconds later, they had touched the ground. Sisko got out of his seat, and opened the hatch.

As he climbed down, Sisko was suddenly greeted by a robot which was floating a few feet above the ground. It's body was squat and round; it's head was seemingly made from two different pieces, a red globe with large square eyes with rounded corners, and what resembled a short cylindrical cap on top. Where the legs should have been, there were two black domes, which one could assume was another pair of spheres tucked into the robot's body. At the center of its body was a small screen; set next to either side of the screen were what Sisko judged to be weapons – ray guns, perhaps, retracted into the body. Next to the guns, and closer to the edge of the robot's body – perhaps where its 'shoulders' would be – Sisko spotted two grasping manipulators, also tucked neatly into the robot's body, so that the Stargleet captain could only see the robot's fingers.

Over the screen, in red letters, Sisko could read:

**VINCENT L.F. 396**

"Finally! A human!" said the robot suddenly "I was getting bored here all by myself! There's nothing but dimwitted automatons everywhere!"

* * *

**7**

* * *

"We are being opposed my Lord"

"I know this Nyarlathotep, but it doesn't matter. Lupercal is advancing as I have instructed"

"Shouldn't we take precautions, Oyarsa of Thulcandra?"

"What precautions haven't I taken? Lupercal will succeed, regardless of what our foes do, regardless of what soldiers they muster"

"Regarding Lupercal, can you trust him? He has been played like a puppet before"

"By lesser gods; lesser than your kin. Not by _**ME**_. Those who have served _**ME**_ will forever be with _**ME**_. My brand is eternal. Lupercal will not betray _**ME**_"

"What of your Lieutenant? The one who succeeded you when you were defeated?"

"He is around, I know it. My strengthening is his. I am certain he has taken physical form after such a long time as a harmless spirit of smoke and ash"

"Will he answer your call?"

"He will of course. He can't help it. And _**WE**_ will be triumphant. Everywhere"

* * *

_I love Star Wars. I love Star Trek. I love Sci-fi in general, and like a child, I like to see characters who have no business being together, fighting side by side against unbeatable odds._

_This is my fourth attempt at writing something, and my second go at Star Wars and Sci-Fi in general. My first attempt fizzled out. At the time, the Expanded Universe was becoming Legends and I had no idea what to do – the intent was to always have the Star Wars characters face a new adventure following the events of The Return of the Jedi. That and I had my own problems to face. Disney put a wrench in that._

_ I have to be quite frank – I do not like in any way this new continuity. The Empire crumbling so easily, the New Republic folding so easily, the First Order, Palpatine making contingency plans for his failure even though he was a smarmy douche who was sure to win, the setting – all of it paled when compared to the old EU. I would gladly take a Jaina over a Rey any day; a Darth Caedus over Kylo Ren (why is that guy's name Ben anyway? To think that when I first saw Force Awakens, I was hoping that the villain would be Luke's son). Admiral Ackbar over Holdo. I decided to make my own continuity. I reckoned that if Han and Leia had a son, they'd name him after Leia's foster father, Bail; at the same time, I wanted Han and Leia to have twins, due to the influence of the EU. So if the son was to be called Bail, then the daughter would be Breha – Bree for short._

_ Politically speaking, the galaxy is divided into three parts now, making it different from both the original trilogy and the prequels. The writers of this new sequel continuity were very lazy (and disrespectful of Mon Mothma, making her seem like an idiot and disarming the Republic like that). Of course, the villain of my tale will change that, but in the meantime, I hope to make the situation interesting, especially with the mysterious and masked Aquilian Ranger (I wonder who he might be?) and playboy quadrillionaire Kaine Starkiller on the side of the newly reformed CIS._

_ This being fanfiction, I of course want to have some fun by employing good old fashioned crossovers. The main one is supposed to be with Star Trek, but you won't see that in this chapter. Most of the characters from outside of the Star Wars universe I think, are well known. Anyone who's picked up a book or played a tabletop game would know who is who and what role they play. I have however, done something which I didn't want to do at first: I created an original character. I didn't have much of a choice. That character is obviously Ted Kelly, the exiled Norstrilian turned Pinlighter, who has now been deputized by one Christopher Kinnison, son of Kimball Kinnison._

_ In my previous attempt at writing a Star Wars crossover, one of the characters I had used was Ted Smith. This was not an OC of mine, but the OC of an actually established writer, Robert Heinlein. But I did mess around with the lore of E.E. Doc Smith's Lensman series. The truth is, although the setting is amazing, I can't sit down to read any of the books written by Smith. I own two of them: First Lensman, and Gray Lensman, the latter is translated into Portuguese, and if you're from Portugal, you know those old Sci-Fi translations that were cheap, very soft-cover, and that were either blue or gray, with artwork that had nothing to do with what you read in the pages._

_ Now it was hard for me to read E.E. Doc Smith's prose, but there was another Smith whose work I could easily read – Cordwainer Smith. I would suggest you read him. I fashioned Ted Kelly as a character that could exist in his universe. I chose to call him Ted for two reasons: one it reminded me of the previous character of Ted Smith, and secondly, the name was remarkably similar to the name of the most peculiar Australian to ever live: Ned Kelly._

_ Reading Cordwainer Smith is one thing; reproducing his prose is another. Cordwainer Smith wrote in a manner that cannot be replicated by me. You'll notice that at some points of this story, I copy pasted some of his text – this is fanfiction, so I don't think that it'll hurt (if it does, please warn me), that's because his description of things is so much better than mine._

_ For those of you interested, here is some relevant reading:_

**The Game of Rat and Dragon** .

_This is the very first Cordwainer Smith story I ever read, and it's the one that got me hooked. I copy-pasted a lot from this one._

**The Dead Lady of Clown Town**

_This gives you an idea of the universe of Cordwainer Smith and the plight of the Underpeople._

_And of course, you need to read _**Norstrilia**, _Cordwainer Smith's only novel about the adventures of Rod McBan, who buys the Earth in order to save his own life._

_ Either way, I hope you enjoy the spectacle, and that I prove worthy of the task._


	2. The Maw

**Captain's log, stardate 6540.3. We are departing the New Paris Starbase on a mission of great urgency. In the past two months, a total of six vessels have been attacked within Federation territory, while in transit between New Paris and Alpha Braga VII. All vessels showed minimal signs of damage, however the crew and passengers were found either dead, or in an unusual state of catatonia. Two weeks ago, Starfleet sent out the U.S.S. **_**Vesuvius**_**, a Miranda class starship equipped with new sensors and a new computer provided by Dr. Richard Daystrom to investigate, but since then all contact has been lost. The Enterprise has been sent out to search and rescue the crew of the **_**Vesuvius**_**, and to complete her mission, and destroy any threat if possible. **

Chief petty officer Dutch approached Captain Kirk cautiously, holding the new body armor in his arms. Kirk took one look at the blast vest and the helmet, and then at the chief petty officer himself. For whatever reason, Dutch was not pleased; quite strange, given the fact that he was one of members of security personnel to request for body armor of some sort. Now that Starfleet had provided it, he had issues with it. Kirk was curious.

"Chief petty officer Dutch, do you have a problem with the new body armor?" asked Kirk calmly.

"I'm sorry to bother you with this sir, but the armor stings," said the chief petty officer.

"Stings?" asked the captain with curiosity. If equipment given to security personnel to keep them alive had problems, then they had to be addressed as soon as possible. "What do you mean?"

"From time to time, when wearing it, the vest gives out a shock. Sometimes its easy to ignore, but other times, it can get distracting," said Dutch.

"Is it the vest or the helmet?" Kirk asked, looking at the panoply in Dutch's hands.

"The vest, for the most part," Dutch replied.

"For the most part," repeated Kirk in a mutter, studying the new armor carefully. "Take it to Engineering. If they can fix it, then wear it. If the problem remains, don't wear it. Armor that put's its wearer's life at risk has no point in existing"

"Yes sir," said chief petty officer Dutch with a nod, before turning around and walking down the corridor. Kirk went to the turbolift in the opposite direction.

Seconds later, he was entering the bridge. Spock was already bent over his console, his eyes seemingly glued to the scope. Kirk made two steps towards the chair when Spock turned to address him.

"Captain, I have found no signs of anything which could have attacked any of the commercial vessels. However, I have detected an anomaly of some significance," said Spock in his matter-of-fact tone, which many misinterpreted as being emotionless. Kirk had known Spock for enough time to know that his science officer was not without emotion or a sense of humor.

Kirk seated himself.

"An anomaly?" he asked, making sure that he sounded like he needed an answer urgently.

"It would seem that the fabric of space and time in this particular area is suffering from a high gravitational pull," Spock replied.

"High gravitational pull? How?" asked Kirk, anticipating a great deal of danger.

"As of yet, I can not tell you, but there are patches of empty space with the gravitational pull of a small planet, where there are none to be detected. It may be related to what attacked the civilian ships and caused the _Vesuvius_ to disappear," answered Spock coldly.

What Spock was telling Kirk was unusual. A gravitation pull usually meant that there was an astral body creating it.

"Are we certaint that there aren't any celestial bodies nearby?" asked the captain. Black holes were known to wander through space, as terrifying as that thought was.

Spock shook his head. "No. Not from here to Alpha Braga VII. Scans confirm it"

"Keep searching. There might be something. Chekov, plot a course based on the last known course the _Vesuvius_. Code yellow. Deflector shields on full. Mr. Sulu, keep it steady," said Kirk sounding unexpectedly dire.

Sulu gave out an 'aye', as Kirk looked at the monotone darkness seen within the viewscreen.

Every sort of scenario ran through Kirk's mind. None of them could match what information he had of the other attacks in this particular chunk of space. When he had been told that no damage had been done to the civilian ships that had suffered these mysterious attacks, they weren't kidding. The ships themselves were nearly untouched, with every operating system within intact and working in good order. Only the people within the ships had been affected; and they too did not bear any marks of any physical attack. Some were simply dead; and the others weren't so lucky.

Reports stated that the survivors were catatonic, but that was not accurate; a Vulcan who tried to mind-meld with one of them died on the spot.

Kirk put his faith in his crew. They had proven themselves numerous times. If anyone could solve this puzzle, it would be them. If not, then Kirk was sure no one else could.

He found himself wondering about the _Vesuvius_. Her captain was Rostam Shahbazi, an officer with a good record. According to the record, the _Vesuvius_ had survived her fair share of scrapes. With regards to this mission, she had been equipped with new sensors and a computer developed by Dr. Richard Daystrom, which could process the information provided by said sensors in a more thorough manner than any other computer.

That Dr. Daystrom was involved did concern Kirk. He wondered if the renowned scientist was apt to design anything after his breakdown during the tests for the M-5. His genius was undeniable, but so was his mental instability.

Kirk wondered if one of the higher-ups had pulled a few strings to get Daystrom out of the mental rehabilitation facility he had been placed in following that incident.

"_Keptin_, we are approaching an object, four o'clock low" said Lieutenant Chekov, nudging Kirk away from his conjectures.

"Mr. Sulu, get us close; carefully," Kirk said.

"Already on it"

The viewscreen now showed beyond the dark void of space, a gray structure. Soon, the form of a Miranda class starship became apparent. Kirk took a deep breath.

"It's the _Vesuvius_," said Checkov.

"Her shields are still up," added Lieutenant Commander Sulu.

Kirk turned to look at Spock, then to Uhura.

"Hail them"

Lieutenant Uhura worked on the console before her, doing her absolute best to contact the _Vesuvius_. She turned to Kirk.

"I'm getting nothing from them sir"

"Try again"

Uhura turned back to her console.

"U.S.S. Enterprise to U.S.S. _Vesuvius_, do you read me? U.S.S. _Vesuvius_, do you read me? This is the U.S.S. Enterprise. Do you read me?" Uhura said, over and over again.

Uhura gave up. "Nothing sir"

Kirk exhaled. "We'll have to beam aboard. Uhura, transmit prefix code 29047"

"Aye captain," said Uhura, punching in the numbers, and then transmitting them to the silent ship.

Forty-nine seconds passed.

"We have full control of the _Vesuvius_' deflector shield _keptin_," said Lieutenant Chekov.

"Good. Knock them down. Lieutenant Uhura, tell Dr. McCoy to meet me at the transporter room, along with a security detail," Kirk touched a button on his armrest "Lieutenant Commander Scott, report to the bridge"

As soon as Scotty arrived, Kirk got up from his chair.

"The bridge is yours"

"Aye Captain" said Scotty.

Kirk nodded at Spock. The Vulcan understood and stepped away from his post. Both entered the turbolift.

* * *

Dr. McCoy had his arms crossed over his chest. He greeted Kirk and Spock with his customary smirk.

"Jim, I thought we were going to wear body armor during these away missions," said the doctor.

"There was a problem Bones" said Kirk.

"You mean the deflector generator is shocking the redshirts? Oh! What a surprise," said McCoy sardonically.

"You seem to have little faith in the new body armor," remarked Spock.

"Spock, you think I don't want to have faith in those things? I have to treat the lugs who get shot up, beaten or worse during these away missions. I want good body armor. But what does Starfleet give us? An apron they call a vest, and a helmet that a time-traveler stole from an early twentieth-century football field. Well, at least the 'vest' covers the lower parts of the body, but can't Starfleet do better?" Dr. McCoy asked.

"Developing body armor that can deflect phaser and disruptor fire while providing ease of wear isn't easy doctor. Otherwise we'd have it by now," replied Spock.

"We're ready sir," said the transporter officer.

Captain Kirk looked at him and nodded. "I want us all on the _Vesuvius_' bridge"

"Let's do what we can to help those poor bastards," McCoy muttered out.

Captain Kirk, Spock, McCoy and three security officers stepped on the transporter pad. They stood still as their atoms were torn apart and re-arranged. In the space of a second, they found themselves on the bridge of the _Vesuvius_.

The lights were on, and every instrument was active. But everyone on board was on the ground, or within their seats. McCoy bent down to check on the nearest man with his medical tricorder.

"He's dead Jim," said the doctor.

Kirk walked towards the command chair. Shahbazi was still seated in it, but his head was lopsided, and his arms hung down instead of being set on the armrests. His eyes were wide open. Even though it was unnecessary, Kirk approached to take the captain's pulse when suddenly a horrific scream, which barely sounded human, bellowed out.

Everyone shot up in attention. The scream had come from a prone figure on the floor next to the helm. He wore the golden shirt of the command division, and he was lying on his back.

At first, it didn't seem like he was awake. His body seemed stiff; but his mouth was open, and from time to time, a horrid, inhuman wail would come out of it.

Kirk nearly shuddered, and realized that this was what the reports had meant when they mentioned on how the dead were the lucky ones.

Dr. McCoy made his way towards the man. He knelt over him and made a quick examination with his tricorder. The doctor took out his hypospray in a hurry and administered it to the man, who mercifully fell silent.

Kirk made his way to them.

"Bones?" he asked.

"I need to take him to sickbay for a better examination," said McCoy.

"You could use the _Vesuvius_' sickbay," remarked crewman Kelsang.

McCoy turned quickly towards the red shirt.

"Like hell I'm treating this man here!" exclaimed McCoy, so loudly that he startled not only the security officer, but even Kirk himself.

"Given what little we know about this attack, I have to agree with Dr. McCoy. We could be endangering ourselves if we stay any longer," added Spock, stepping forward.

Kirk nodded.

"Agreed. We'll beam this lieutenant to the Enterprise. Dr. McCoy, make sure that the sickbay is isolated," he said.

"Jim! How many years do you think I've been doing this?" said Dr. McCoy with the sort of outrage one can express with familiarity.

"Bones, I'm afraid to even answer that one," said Captain Kirk.

"Captain, shouldn't there be more people like this on board?" asked crewman Goss.

"That's certain Captain," added Spock. "Sensors have indicated at least seventy surviving members of the _Vesuvius_' crew"

"Seventy!" exclaimed Dr. McCoy.

Kirk pondered on the problem.

"Open communications with the Enterprise" he said.

Spock gently pulled the communications officer away from her post, and set her slowly on the floor. He then began pressing the relevant controls on the console.

"Channel is open Captain," said the Vulcan.

The viewscreen turned on, and Scotty's face appeared.

"Captain?" he asked.

"Scotty, I need a medical team here with security detail. Have them transported to the _Vesuvius_' sickbay. Tell them to expect the worse"

"Aye captain" said the one true Scotsman. The viewscreen shifted back to a view of the Enterprise at a relatively close distance.

Spock approached.

"Captain, we should also take a look at Daystrom's computer. It could hold valuable information," Commander Spock said.

Kirk nodded.

"Crewman Kelsang, escort Commander Spock to the _Vesuvius_' computer core, and if possible, extract it. I assume that the computer is segregated from the ship's main operating systems" said Kirk. He turned his head randomly and spotted the communications officer on the floor. He took out his communicator. He wasn't in the mood to use the woman's console.

"Scotty, we have one to beam to sickbay"

* * *

It was when Kirk returned to the command chair of Enterprise's bridge that things got heated up. Sensors and scanners went wild; the viewscreen suddenly showed a ship appearing out of nothing. It resembled an Antares-type ore freighter, but with bits and pieces of Klingon and Romulan ships attached to it. The ship attacked quickly, launching a photon torpedo at the _Vesuvius_.

Unshielded, the Miranda class ship was grievously struck. The torpedo hit dangerously close to the ship's warp core.

Kirk turned towards the Engineering console. He was lucky that Scotty was there. The chief of engineering was quick, and his hands flew over the controls of his console even before he had said a word.

A second later, the _Vesuvius_ burst out in a powerful explosion which would have wiped out several cities had it been located anywhere else.

"We lost three of our people Captain. The rest of the medical team is safe," Scotty said forlornly.

Kirk was seething.

* * *

The assailing ship launched two more torpedoes and several energetic bolts; the Enterprise made a sudden vertical move upwards, and the torpedoes passed by, barely touching the shields. The bolts however, struck the Enterprise, going through the deflector shields and hitting one of the nacelles; almost at once, there was a surge of energy within. The assailing ship then tried to reposition itself to shoot another salvo. Even with a damaged nacelle, the Enterprise was too fast. She came back down again. Twin phaser streams came out of the banks on the bottom of the Enterprise's saucer section, and struck with precision the assailant's warp nacelles. Another pair of beams incapacitated the ship completely.

* * *

Kirk turned to engineering.

"Damage report?" Kirk asked.

"We received damage in engineering. Two injuries but no fatalities" said Scotty from his engineering post.

Kirk stood from his command chair.

"Lower your shields and prepare to be taken into custody," he growled out, angry at the loss of three members of his crew, and the remaining survivors of the _Vesuvius_, along with the damages to the Enterpries.

"Captain! They've initiated self-destruct!"

That was the last thing Kirk wanted to hear. He quickly turned to Scotty, who himself was tense given the damage to the engine.

"Can you beam any of them?" Kirk excitedly asked.

"That ship is shielded sir. It won't be easy. I won't get everyone on board," Scotty replied.

"Beam who you can. Leave the rest. Beam them to the brig and have a security detail on standby," Kirk angrily ordered.

Orders were obeyed and commands conveyed. Within the viewscreen, the assailant ship exploded with just as much intensity as the _Vesuvius_.

"Captain!" Scotty exclaimed with urgency. "Two of them are beaming here! They're coming through our shields!"

Kirk didn't have time to be stunned. An energy field emerged and took form; a brutish looking man emerged before Kirk. He didn't hesitate, and went straight for the captain's throat. Kirk reacted quickly and accordingly to his training. He kneed the man in the gut; when the brute was bent over, Kirk delivered a karate chop to his neck, followed by an uppercut which caught his foe on the chin. The brute fell down, and rolled towards the dainty feet of the other intruder.

She was without a doubt female – a beautiful young female in clothes that flattered every inch of her being. She was olive-skinned; her hair was jet black as were her irises, which could not be distinguished from her pupils – if they existed.

Spock was quick to move. He placed himself by the woman side and he extended his arm. His hand went to the base of her neck; his fingers squeezed, and the woman collapsed.

"You were lucky Captain," said Spock, kneeling over the laid figure of the woman "This woman is a Betazoid, a people known for their telepathic capabilities. I don't know how powerful this woman is, but there was a chance that she might try to manipulate you"

Kirk couldn't help but grimace. Bones would have had a field day with that comment.

"She isn't just a Betazoid," answered Kirk "I recognized her face in an instant. That is Belizara, wanted not just in the Federation, but in the Klingon and Romulan Empires as well. She has a heavy price on her head"

Security officers walked in and carried the two intruders away.

* * *

**Captain's log, supplemental. Damages sustained to the engines of the Enterprise during our confrontation with the she-pirate Belizara, has forced us to remain in the interstellar void between New Paris and Alpha Braga VII. Chief engineer Scotty cannot, as of this recording, tell me how long the repairs will take. In the meantime, we are using our sub-light engines to approach New Paris at a crawl. Our computer technicians are hard at work deciphering the information from Daystrom's computer; given unexpected complications related to the experimental sensors of the **_**Vesuvius**_**, this is proving harder than it should be. Hopefully, the prisoners will have some information pertaining the mystery behind the destruction of six civilian vessels and a Federation Starship.**

As far as Kirk knew, there were no technological means to block telepathy. For that reason, Spock was there with him when he paid a visit to the infamous she-pirate, Belizara of Betazed. Kirk hoped that Spock's hybrid mind would render him less vulnerable to telepathic control.

"This is unnecessary," said Belizara within her cell. "I can receive thoughts, not transmit them"

"I can't take your word for that," responded Captain Kirk "You're known for several acts of piracy and you're personally responsible for eighty-nine deaths, including the seventy-one survivors of the _Vesuvius_, and three members of my crew, not to mention the damage sustained by my ship"

"Those deaths were an act of mercy!" shouted out Belizara "Those so-called survivors were not really alive. They were empty shells! It was a blessing that they died!"

It took a lot for Kirk to control himself.

"Doctor Jammeh! Nurse Whitefeather! Crewman Teal!" exclaimed Kirk in a sudden outburst. "Those were the names of my crewmembers! The ones who died when your ship attacked the _Vesuvius_!"

Belizara stood still. Her face was like stone, hard and cold.

"What do you know about the attacks on the civilian ships crossing this area of space?" asked Spock with considerable less emotion than Kirk.

Belizara's demeanor changed. She didn't look like an iron-clad woman defying the odds anymore; she looked like a scared girl trying her best to seem brave. She took several deep breaths.

"I was at New Paris when I heard of the ships and how they had been found. Intact, with a lifeless crew." she said.

"Not entirely lifeless. There were survivors," Kirk stated, remembering the lone survivor of the _Vesuvius_.

"Those were not survivors," Belizara said with emphasis. "How can someone with no telepathy understand? I can feel emotions and thoughts. I felt nothing but the fire of the id from those who you call survivors. A survivor can recover! They never would!"

"Belizara!" said Spock more forcefully. "Proceed"

The Betazoid took several deep breaths.

"I decided that this would be a perfect opportunity to make a profit. I had a ship with technology unknown to you, secret weapons and cloaks to let me evade or fight any fleet; you know this well. All I had to do was wait and keep my eyes open. It didn't take long for me to find a derelict ship - one which you do not know about. When I entered the ship, I understood the gravity of the situation," said Belizara.

She paused again. Kirk and Spock looked at her patiently.

"The dead did not bother me. The ones that weren't dead did. That was all that they were – not dead. They were not alive. Never again would they be alive"

"What caused it?" Kirk asked.

Belizara placed her hand on her forehead, wiping away the sweat.

"I asked myself that question," she replied. "No weapon I know could have done what I saw before me. I decided that it was time to leave this part of space forever. That was when the Gorn ship came"

"The Gorn?" Kirk asked, stunned.

"They were not the ones to do this," Belizara quickly said. Whether she used her telepathy or simply used logic to anticipate Kirk's question was irrelevant. Either one could have been used. "But they were there. I don't know why. Maybe they wanted to do the same thing we were doing: looting from an easy target. That was when they came and attacked the Gorn"

"What is they?" Kirk asked.

Belizara remained silent.

"What did this?" Kirk said raising his tone of voice. Spock remained still, like a rock.

"There were two of them. They were not of this universe; I can tell you that with certainty. You can tell when you're a telepath. When they came, I was nearly knocked out; I can never describe what I felt. It was like being confronted by a mythical monster. Something like a dragon.

"We were lucky. The creatures decided to attack the Gorn first. They feasted upon their souls. I could feel it! Every bit of it! Such a terrible thing to feel! Nothing could stop them; no deflector shields; no hulls, no matter how thick! The Gorn shot at them with their disruptors but the monsters changed their shape and evaded every attack. It was then that we had our second lucky break. Something happened within the Gorn ship. They fired out their photon torpedoes in their final madness and one of them hit the creatures. Blessed be the Gorn, they killed one of them and forced the other to flee!"

Kirk and Spock looked at each other.

"It was the light! Light of a sun-like intensity kills the wretched beasts!" continued Belizara. "My ship came out damaged from that encounter, and the minds of some of my men were addled. When we saw your ship, we only saw the derelict. We wanted to offer mercy. My navigator did not see you. If we had, we would not come out of our cloak; we would have left. I am not a nice woman. I have killed. But I did not intend to kill your people, or attack you"

As much as he knew that it might be a ruse, Kirk did believe Belizara's version of the events. He had seen many people lie; he had never seen them lie like that. He turned away from the brig.

"What do you think?" said Kirk with a quiet tone to Spock.

"She seems sincere, but without any corroborating evidence, I can not tell you if she's telling us the truth or a fanciful lie. The only way in which I could determine the veracity of her statement would be to mind-meld with her, and that would hold its own dangers, as she would gain as much information from me, as I would from her. We'll have to wait for the computer technicians to interpret the data from Daystrom's computer"

"Lieutenant Matosinhos calling Captain Kirk" said an electronically generated voice.

"Speak of the devil" remarked Kirk as he turned towards the wall communicator. He pressed the button.

"This is Captain Kirk. I take it Lieutenant, that you've finished your job?" he asked.

"Yes sir," said the voice coming out of the communicator. "I think it might be best if you met with us in the holographic rec room. It might give you a better idea of what happened to the _Vesuvius_"

Kirk turned to look at Spock, who lifted his eyebrow in his own particular manner.

"Copy. I'll be there shortly," Kirk said.

With a nod of his head Kirk and Spock were on their way to the turbolift.

* * *

Kirk, Spock and Lieutenant Matosinhos stood at the center of the holographic recreation room. Presently, the walls, floor and ceiling were all light blue; once activated, the room would then generate a perfect facsimile of any environment.

Lieutenant Matosinhos stood at the control panel.

"Getting information out of that computer was a bit more complicated than I had reckoned with, but we were lucky; the _Vesuvius_ sensors were very powerful and precise, noticing the slightest shift within the fabric of space," said the lieutenant as he typed in the proper commands. The room now simulated empty, starlit space. The three men seemingly hovered in it like ghosts, even though their feet were firmly planted on the floor.

A miniature image – as big as a football – of the Miranda class _Vesuvius_ appeared.

"This is the _Vesuvius_, moments before its encounter. This was the easy part, by the way. The computer had no problem recording this. But it did have a problem registering this" Matosinhos punched a button and a shape suddenly appeared. It resembled a cloud made of glittering particles of dust, surrounded by what looked like a semi-transparent force field. "The thing didn't really look like that. I had the computer emphasize its form in order for it to be seen properly. Only one of the _Vesuvius'_ potent sensors actually got a good look at it, so to speak"

Matosinhos pressed another button. The deflector shield around the _Vesuvius_ was now visible to the naked eye.

"The deflectors are at half strength," Kirk observed.

"They can't see our little cloud of dust here yet," answered Matosinhos. Calling it little was imprecise. Although both the _Vesuvius_ and the cloud were miniaturized, it was clear that the cloud itself was as big as the starship.

With increasing speed, the cloud began to move towards the _Vesuvius_, which continued as if nothing was there.

Suddenly, the _Vesuvius_' deflectors were at full power; the Miranda class ship retreated away quickly.

Kirk's eyes widened.

"They knew they were being attacked!" he said.

"I'm afraid not sir," said Lieutenant Matosinhos "We have audio of the captain yelling at his helmsman. He didn't know what was going on"

"But the helmsman did"

"Captain, a lieutenant Jensar Hylos is within the _Vesuvius_' crew manifesto as a helmsman. If I may remind you, that is a Betazoid name. It is possible that lieutenant Hylos sensed the attack even though his fellow crewmen were unaware of the danger they were in," said Spock. "I would also like to add that lieutenant Hylos is the young man in our sickbay"

Kirk took a moment to think about that

"Did he explain himself to his captain? Did he warn them?" Kirk asked.

"Not very well," answered Matosinhos. "As a matter of fact, he sounds like a maniac in the audio recording"

"Behavior consistent with what Belizara told us about the creature," said Spock.

"Captain Shahbazi wouldn't know that. It wouldn't take long for security to restrain lieutenant Hylos," added Kirk.

"It was time enough for Hylos to counter attack the cloud monster" said Matosinhos.

Once more, everyone's attention was on the simulation. Even as it retreated, the Vesuvius was firing its phasers. Much to Kirk's consternation, the phasers went through the cloud monster without slowing it down.

A single photon torpedo came out.

The cloud changed its shape and became like a ring. The torpedo passed through the open space.

"Did you see that Spock?" asked Kirk.

"It took evasive action"

The simulation continued. By now the _Vesuvius_ stopped reversing her course and firing at the cloud; the deflectors were still on full power. The cloud was quickly upon the Miranda class ship, passing through the shields as if they weren't there and like an amoeba, it enveloped the starship. In a matter of seconds, the cloud had detached from the Vesuvius, and left quickly.

Matosinhos ended the simulation.

"So this is what we're up against," said Kirk. He considered his options. Such a dangerous entity could not be allowed to exist within Federation space – especially an important trade route connecting two important settlements. However, Kirk had his crew to consider. The mission was clear: search and rescue the crew of the _Vesuvius_, and destroy whatever threat existed if possible. Kirk knew that the main rescue mission was a failure. As for destroying the monster which had been plaguing this part of space, that would not be easy. There was no option: once the Enterprise's engine was fixed, they had to leave. In the meantime, Kirk would have to inform Starfleet of what was going on; record everything, if he had to. Later perhaps, a better equipped flotilla could deal with the entity.

In the meantime, the cloud creature could strike at any moment. The Enterprise could not be rendered defenseless.

The three men exited the holographic recreation room. Kirk turned to the wall communicator.

"Captain Kirk to Lieutenant Commander Scott, copy" said Captain Kirk into the machine.

Five seconds passed before Scotty replied.

"Aye captain" said Scott

"Scotty, how long will it take to repair the engines?" Kirk asked.

There was a frightful pause.

"A bit longer than expected sir. New complications have come up" said Scotty a bit downcast.

Kirk's hopes of a speedy exit were dashed.

"Repair it as fast as you can. We need to leave. Over and out," said Kirk, stepping away from the wall communicator. He turned to Spock. "For the time being, we're sitting ducks"

"We could modify our photon torpedoes and have them explode with radiant light, if what Miss Belizara said is true," said Spock. "However, we may also have to release Miss Belizara from the brig. It seems that the only thing that can detect the entity is a telepathic mind"

Kirk groaned, but eventually, he nodded. There really was no other solution.

"I'll go speak with her. Work on those photon torpedoes, and be quick about it. Any second wasted is an inch closer to the grave," Kirk said. "Lieutenant, work with Commander Spock to find a way to fire those torpedoes as efficiently as possible"

"Aye sir"

Spock and Matosinhos went down one corridor. Kirk went the other. He now would have to speak with Belizara on his own. He knew how to handle women, particularly the beautiful ones, but a telepathic woman was a complicated matter altogether.

* * *

At first, Belizara chuckled. Then she laughed. She then laughed some more; releasing laughter like a buccaneer that was larger than life.

"You're going after that thing?" she bellowed out. "Why don't you just send me off into space without a suit or personal shield? It would be faster, I'm sure"

"I'm not going after that thing. But I can't run from it either, and I have you to thank for that. You are here due to your own actions, and I expect you to pitch in in this time of need," Kirk vehemently stated. "The simple truth is that until our engines are fixed, we're at the mercy of whatever it was that attacked the _Vesuvius_ and the other ships in this region. My men are already working on something that we can only hope can kill it. But we can't see it"

"That's where I come in, isn't it?" Belizara said without surprise.

"None of our sensors can detect that thing, and we can't see it with our naked eyes. So far, the only two people to ever perceive one of these entities were you and the helmsman of the U.S.S. Vesuvius. That both of you are Betazoids with telepathic abilities is not a coincidence. Miss Belizara, the lives of everyone aboard the Enterprise is at stake, including your own. Quite frankly, you don't strike me as the suicidal sort. And if you do help us, the judge might take that into account during your trial," said Kirk.

Belizara just looked at Kirk. He knew she was reading his mind; he only wondered about the extent. The look on her face suddenly shifted. From defiance to sad consternation.

"The Betazoid you mentioned, is he the survivor on this ship?" she asked.

"Yes"

Belizara was pouting.

"I would like to see him. I would like to give my regards to a fellow Betazoid. If you would allow me to Captain" said Belizara. She seemed unusually subdued.

"We could do that now" said the captain. He hoped she didn't sense how urgently he needed her. Women like Belizara did not let go of an advantage once they had it in their clutches.

"I would very much like that" Belizara replied. She seemed oddly relieved.

Kirk motioned his security detail. The red shirts allowed the Betazoid to leave the brig.

"Follow me" Kirk said. "And remember, we're quite literally in the same boat"

Belizara nodded. They proceeded through corridors and entered a turbolift. They left the turbolift, and were soon in the sickbay.

The Betazoid helmsman was lying on his bed like a corpse; the body function panel above him showed that his vitals were normal, except for his cerebral activity, which was at zero, along with the k3 indicator.

Slowly, Belizara walked up to the bed. Kirk watched her closely. Her demeanor changed as she got nearer, and underwent a complete transformation the moment she set eyes on the man's face.

Very suddenly, Belizara fell upon the helmsman's body, and she broke out into sobs. Kirk was at odds at how to react. This could be a trap; but Belizara had no way to escape. The shuttles wouldn't certainly save her - not in this portion of space - and there was no other ship around.

"Miss Belizara?" Kirk asked.

"What did this man call himself?" she asked between choking on her tears and her sobs.

"Lieutenant Jensar Hylos" Kirk replied. "Do you know him?"

Belizara let out a weak chuckle.

"There are many billions of us Betazoids. I could never know all of them," she said without an edge to her voice. "But I did know this one"

She sobbed again.

"He was my brother," she said.

Kirk couldn't help but believe her. At least, he found himself hoping it was the truth; otherwise, he'd be a fool.

"He must have left after I did" she added. "Neither of us wanted to see mother go through her phase"

Kirk didn't know what she was talking about, and he didn't have the nerve to ask.

But he had to say something. "He's still alive"

Belizara turned to look at Kirk.

"Didn't you hear me before Captain Kirk? He's not alive. The cells of his body are alive, but not my brother" she snapped at Kirk.

Kirk remained calm. "I wish I could do more for him"

Belizara nodded.

She stood up straight and looked Kirk in the eye.

"I'll do it. I'll watch out for that animal, while we're stuck here," she declared. "I owe it to you, I suppose"

"I'm glad to hear that," Kirk said, then adding, "You know that we can't trust you though"

Belizara smiled. "It's a good idea not to. What do you intend to do?"

"Doctor McCoy will place a subcutaneous chip in your scalp, one which detects fluctuations in brainwaves. The moment you sense the entity, that information will be transmitted to the ship's computer. Hopefully by then, we'll have the weapons to destroy it. Thanks to you, we know its greatest weakness, so hopefully it won't be too hard to exploit it"

* * *

One week passed by without anything attacking the Enterprise. Kirk had sent out whatever messages he could. If the Enterprise was attacked, then Starfleet would have the knowledge to avenge them. Kirk was relieved to know at least that.

Belizara sat beneath a tree within the arboretum. Kirk sat there next to her. One would think they were engaged, if they were to look at them with a quick glance.

"I was told that your chief of engineering has fixed the engine," she said.

Kirk nodded. "I was informed an hour ago. Chekov is still plotting our course. I'll be heading for the bridge in a while"

"Will you turn me in?" she asked. Kirk looked at her.

For the past week, one of Kirk's greatest fears was that Belizara was somehow manipulating him, pushing his thoughts into one direction as to benefit herself. Kirk's continued certainty that she pay for her crimes was proof enough that she wasn't.

Perhaps she couldn't manipulate people – with her telepathic powers at least – as she had said before. Or perhaps she wouldn't – and if that were the case, she might have a shot at redemption.

"Yes," Kirk replied. "People have died because of you"

Belizara nodded. Kirk recalled the way in which she had been described. She was dangerous, seductive and strong-willed. Ruthless and cunning. Greedy beyond belief. That was not a good description for the woman who sat next to him. Kirk wondered if that woman had ever existed at all, or if she had died when she entered this part of space and encountered the terrifying beings which feasted on souls.

Kirk got up. There was no point in sticking around.

"I need to go to the bridge," he said.

Belizara shot upwards.

"May I come with you?" she asked.

"Why?" Kirk asked. He wondered if she'd manipulate him into letting her go.

She pouted.

"I would like to see us arrive anywhere else," she finally replied.

"That's not a good enough answer," Kirk sighed in resignation, and extended his arm. Belizara got on her feet and interlocked her arm with his. Together, they walked away from the pleasantries of the arboretum.

It seemed like they had arrived on the bridge in almost an instant. The entire bridge crew turned to look at Kirk and Belizara. Captain Kirk knew why they turned their heads. Like him, they had their own suspicions regarding Belizara.

She wasn't naïve. Belizara was a Betazoid who could easily perceive the thoughts of others. In spite of that, she didn't seem to look at any member of the crew with malice. She knew that any person with the ability to look into the minds of others should be viewed with suspicion. Kirk was convinced that Belizara was ready to turn a new page of her life.

He sat on his command chair.

"Mr. Chekov, has the course been set?" he asked.

"Aye _keptin_"

"Mr. Sulu, engage"

Without warning, it happened. Red alert was suddenly declared without oders and the deflector shields went to maximum capacity almost instantaneously. Kirk turned to look at Belizara; never had he seen such a look of dread on a woman's face before.

The Enterprise was reacting to the chip in her scalp. It occured to Kirk in that short moment, that Belizara could be using the chip to escape, but the chip had been developed under Spock's close supervision. It would be difficult to be used in that capacity.

Belizara rushed towards Sulu's console.

The security officer within the bridge was quick to respond, rushing forward to stop her. He almost did.

Terror blazed up in Kirk's mind, and struck him so hard he almost fell down. He felt something clamp around him. Something immense, long, black, sharp, greedy, horrific, which had Kirk in an iron grip. He felt his inner id erupt and explode like a Nova.

Somehow, Kirk managed to turn his head. Through a blurred vision, he saw Uhura and Spock convulsing in their seats. Amidst the pain, he turned his head again. He could see Sulu and Chekov doing the same.

He saw Belizara, glowing like a star, smashing her hand against Sulu's console. The glow left her and floated away, sucked upwards.

There was a bright flash of light.

Kirk suddenly felt a hand with a strong grip clasping his arm. It took a moment for him to realize that someone was helping him up. He looked forward to see Chekov and Sulu getting back to their seats. He turned to his right and saw Spock standing there next to him, helping him stand up. There was very little in his face which showed that he had been affected by the entity's attack.

"Are you okay Spock?" Kirk asked, his voice coming out in gasps of air.

"I will recover Captain. It seems that our modified photon torpedoes worked. Whatever tried to kill us is gone," he said.

"How is everyone?" Kirk asked.

"As far as can be ascertained, our casualties are lesser than feared, but we have sustained them nonetheless," Spock said.

Kirk closed his eyes and rubbed his face.

"Where is Belizara? We owe her our survival. If she hadn't pressed that button, the creature would have killed us all"

Spock was not outwardly emotional, as befitting a Vulcan, but Kirk knew him long enough to tell when Spock had bad news to break.

"Captain, Belizara did not survive" said the Vulcan somberly.

Kirk looked again at the helm. By now, a security officer was helping Sulu gently pick up the Betazoid she-pirate. The captain looked at the woman with regret; she could have done better with her life. Perhaps this was for the best. She was a wanted criminal and she had to answer for her crimes, many which included the loss of life. Perhaps she would have been executed. At least, she had died saving the lives of others, and that must have counted for something, if there was a Great Deity out there. The only thing that made Kirk feel regretful, was that now more than ever, he knew that she had never tampered with his mind.

* * *

**2**

* * *

The hand of a droid helped Yanjeen Ot out of her SoroSuub LV-12 landspeeder.

As she climbed out of her imported vehicle, she felt a bit rotten for not arriving in a landspeeder made by a Confederate world; such negative view of herself vanished when she saw streams of similar SoroSuub landspeeders approaching. She stepped out on the carpet as her droid drove her landspeeder to the safety of the space reserved for it. Ot walked calmly towards the grand entrance of the Harant Palace.

The protocol droid at the entrance made an appropriate bow.

"Speaker Ot. It is an honor to receive you here," said the droid.

"It's an honor to be here," replied Ot. She looked around. The highest crust of Raxulon's society was present, coming from every species one could think of. She couldn't spot any other Hapan like herself. Speaker Ot was truly unique in this setting.

Ot was pleased to see that the light within was quite bright. She lifted her spectacles from her eyes.

"I almost didn't recognize you without your spectacles Speaker Ot," said a familiar voice. Ot turned her head slightly to look at the man who had addressed her. She then turned around to meet him face to face.

He was tall, but not too tall, handsome and well tailored, with slick backed red hair. Make-up covered the skin around his eyes, which was enough to tell Ot how vain the man actually was. A modern take on the fop. Alas, he could be so sloppy at it; even with her Hapan eyesight, Ot could clearly see the lenses over his eyes. If it wasn't for his fortune and charisma, the man would be doomed to a lonely life in the gutter.

My oh my, did the young man have a fortune. Quite the fortune actually. Kaine Starkiller was one of the richest men in the CIS. Speaker Ot knew however that at least half of his fortune was inherited rather than earned.

This was the man who owned Harant Palace.

He walked towards her, a glass of Daruvvian champagne in his hand. The smile on his face was the sort a young lady had to be wary of.

"Mr. Starkiller. I did not expect to meet you here so early," she said, sounding flippant.

"Why not?" Starkiller took a small sip of the champagne as he usually did. Ot wondered what sort of man sipped champagne in such tiny sips. In a previous party the man held the same glass of champagne for over three hours and barely emptied it. She wondered if he was hiding a weak stomach from his rivals and peers. He would certainly become a laughing stock amongst his peers if he couldn't manage his liquor.

"People like you are always fashionably late," Ot replied.

"People like me?" he asked, mocking bewilderment.

"Filthy rich," she said, point-blank.

"I'm hurt. I thought you were going to say 'gallant' or 'devilishly handsome', or better yet 'irresistible to the female eye,'" replied Starkiller with a goblin smile.

"We Hapans have poor eyesight. Sometimes, I should thank the maker" Ot replied.

"Stop that. Your eyesight isn't as bad as you say it is. You just can't see in the dark. Some of us ordinary humans can have worse eyesight. I could be a blind man after all is said and done," said Starkiller.

Ot nearly groaned. "Don't joke with me"

"I'm not. By the way, you look lovely. Lovelier than any other Hapan I've ever met. So much that I wish you weren't wearing so much clothes" he said shamelessly.

Although Ot had had these sort of conversations with Starkiller before, he always managed to make her blush.

"Be careful with what you say. I'm a speaker of the Parliament,"

"I like danger," replied Starkiller. "What could be more dangerous than wooing a beautiful speaker?"

"How about saving lives? Or infiltrating a pirate gang which held five hundred and sixty four Confederate hostages within Imperial space without getting caught?"

Starkiller quickly backed away. Ot smiled. She knew that she had hit a sore spot.

"Are you comparing me with the Aquilian Ranger?" he asked, slightly miffed.

"I shouldn't compare him to a spineless quadrillionaire playboy like yourself. People like you pay people like him to do all of your dirty work," she said.

Starkiller gasped.

"Not everyone is insane. As I understand it, the Aquilian Ranger is a mutant freak with crystal gems for eyes – a menace to society which the CIS would be better without," he responded. "Besides, do you know how much work I have to put in to be a playboy quadrillionaire?"

Ot was beginning to get aggravated.

"Tell me about how you got your fortune. I heard it that half of it was inherited from your mother. What was her name again? Mara Jade?" said Ot with a bit more aggressiveness.

That must have stung Starkiller. He just stared at her, stone-faced. It almost seemed like the cosmetic lenses over his eyes would fall off to reveal something inhuman.

For a moment, Ot was actually terrified.

Starkiller suddenly looked upwards.

"I have to go," he said.

Ot looked upwards and saw nothing but the transparisteel ceiling of the palace. She turned around, only to see that Starkiller had disappeared.

She smiled, in spite of her previous fright. "I taught you a lesson you spoiled rat"

Ot was quite satisfied with herself.

A loud explosion immediately took her from a pleased state of mind. Debris came falling down on the dancefloor. A few people must have been caught; others managed to escape. But it wasn't over. Ot saw several Mandalorians come down from above.

One fell right in front of her, his blaster pointed straight at her face. Ot was terrified, but her career in parliament had trained her to mask her emotional state. Her face remained serene; her voice was calm.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked.

All she got was a chuckle in response.

* * *

When the wall slid open, the Aquilian Ranger could already see that the mayhem had just started. Debris fell from the ceiling and was coming crashing down to the ground. A huge chunk of transparisteel was on its way down to crush a Quarren couple.

Reaching out with the Force, the Aquilian Ranger pulled them out of the way; he pulled out as many people he could sense. In an instant later, he saw Mandalorians, or thugs dressed in Mandalorian armor, descending down with their jetpacks.

If they weren't Mandalorians, they were doing a good job of imitating them.

His attention was drawn towards Speaker Ot. One of the supposed Mandalorians had landed right in front of her.

The man's intent to kill was clear; the Ranger could sense it through the Force and his crystal eyes.

"Kor-Tee! Keep the others busy!" he said.

From behind, a droid shaped like an avian predator came out. It immediately flew towards the Mandalorians, spewing out cybernetic smoke at them. That should scramble all of their senses for a while, from their natural born ones, to their electronics.

The Aquilian Ranger leapt towards Speaker Ot and her assailant. The man was on the verge of pulling the trigger to his blaster. The Ranger focused. Using the Force to move large objects was at times easier than smaller objects such as trigger fingers. He didn't have much of a choice however, a stray shot may not have injured the speaker, but it might go to someone else. It was a strain, but the Ranger did it.

As for the Mandalorian, he was completely baffled that he couldn't move his finger. His surprised increased when the Aquilian Ranger landed behind him, whirled him around, and punched him in the face with his gauntleted hand.

Enhanced by the Force, the punch knocked the Mandalorian on to the ground, unconscious and dreaming bitter-sweet dreams, regardless of how much protection his helmet supposedly offered.

"Thank you Aquilian Ranger," said Speaker Ot. The Ranger gave her a military salute. She was quite the pretty lady, and he would have liked to talk to her more, but there were other Mandalorians to deal with.

One of them was trying to blast Kor-Tee, aiming his blaster in a dangerous manner. The Ranger ran towards the Mandalorian and delivered a kick which sent him off his feet.

Now there were three more to go. Fortunately, all three of them had their attention on him. None tried to take a hostage. They had some sense of honor at least. Or maybe they were just overexcited. That sort of thing happened.

The nearest Mandalorian shot at the Ranger. In a flash, the Aquilian Ranger pulled out his lightsaber; it differed from the Jedi and Sith lightsabers in that it had a cortosis hand guard built into the saber's hilt. Within, it contained several useful devices, but presently, the Ranger used it to block the Mandalorian's blast. He then lit up the shimmering silver blade. Two blasts bounced off of it harmlessly hitting the walls.

Using the Force to enhance his speed, the Aquilian Ranger quickly made his way to the Mandalorian and punched him in his helmeted face with the hand-guard. He then used the Force to slam the other to the ground with enough power to render him unconscious.

Only one Mandalorian remained. A woman of significant age. She must have been an artist once, as her armor was painted in bright colors and patterns. As far as the Aquilian Ranger could perceive with his crystal eyes, she was the leader of this small group.

A missile quickly came out of her jetpack. The Aquilian Ranger didn't have any choice but to let her rocket away as he stopped the missile and let its thruster run out of fuel. Once it was safe, he let it down, very gently.

He looked upwards towards the sky. The Mandalorian woman was long gone, but her trail was still warm. She probably thought that she was free, or maybe she knew better. It didn't matter. The Ranger activated his own jetpack – a smaller, more efficient model which he himself had designed. In an instant, he was off the ground. Kor-Tee came following after him as they ascended towards Raxus' night sky.

The Ranger's pack was clearly the superior, as he soon caught up with the Mandalorian woman in spite of the great distance; he wondered if her garish panoply would be easy to spot. If only he had the eyes he had been born with.

However, he didn't need his eyes to see that the woman was turning around to shoot him. He casually used his light saber to deflect the blasts back in her direction. One blast hit her arm, forcing her to turn; the next hit the jetpack.

She began to careen towards the nearby skyscrapers of Raxulon. The Ranger accelerated his pack. As soon as he was near enough, he used the Force to strike her face, knocking her out. He then grabbed her with one hand, and mangled her jetpack with the other; he forcefully tossed her on to the rooftop of the nearest skyscraper. The old Mandalorian woman rolled and stopped. The Aquilian Ranger landed next to her.

He stretched out his hand. Using the Force he pulled away her weapons, and then her helmet, revealing an old weathered, deeply tanned face, and short hair tinted purple. It was ridiculous that such an old woman would paint her hair.

Taking out a packet of water from his belt, the Aquilian Ranger splashed it on her face. She came to quickly.

"Who hired you?" he asked.

The old woman chuckled.

"Did you ever think I was going to talk?" she said.

"I was being courteous"

"You're not good at it. Besides the arm, I've probably got bruises all over my body," she said. Her attempt at defiance wasn't very original.

"You don't have to talk. I can see right through you with these crystal eyes of mine," answered the Ranger pointing at them.

The woman smiled. "How do you like my tattoos?"

"Not at all. They're tasteless," he dryly said.

"What a bum," even as she spoke, the Aquilian Ranger peered into her mind. It was a technique he found himself using more and more. On the boundary with the renewed Empire, he had seen a few altered minds; evidence of a fourth party and foul play.

On the first layer of the woman's mind, he saw himself, dressed in his gray and dark blue suit. An avian themed mask covered most of his head; his glowing crystal eyes were exposed, as was his mouth. Gauntlets covered his hands and in the same manner his legs were covered with greaves. His jet-pack made it seem as if he had wings on his back. Kor-Tee hovered nearby. The Ranger saw that the old lady perceived him as towering menacingly over her. That was good.

He saw other faces that didn't concern him. A young man with dark skin and closely cropped hair; a green skinned Twi'lek female in a flight suit with a green haired young man in Jedi robes. Faces from her past.

The Ranger needed a face from her more recent past.

"How much did you get?" he asked.

"Are you digging in my head?" she asked, now showing more anger. Using the Force, the Ranger slapped her across the face.

"You lost your right to privacy," he said sternly. He continued to pull away at her mind, and he saw a face which brought him much disappointment. Using the Force, he knocked her out again. The security droids arrived to detain the Mandalorian, while he left to deal with someone else.

* * *

Boos Delamee, trusted CEO of Starkiller Industries watched at home with apprehension the HoloWeb News. Reports were coming in of the attack on the Harant Palace. In the nick of time the Aquilian Ranger had prevented the situation from getting any worse by stopping a quartet of Mandalorian attackers before they could do any serious harm. There were no casualties, although some of the guests were injured.

Details were still sketchy and no one knew what was going on beyond that. Delamee took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

The door rang. Delamee was startled. He stood still until the door rang again. Delamee went to the door. At this time of the night, he had most of his droids deactivated. Only his security devices were active, to prevent home invasions.

Delamee turned on the monitor.

Kaine Starkiller stood within the corridor. A quick analysis showed that this was indeed the real man. He opened the door.

"Kaine! Thank goodness! I was going to call! I've been watching the news and..."

Starkiller raised his hand, cutting Delamee off.

"I was told about your involvement in the attack," he said with a cold hard expression on his face.

Delamee felt his heart sink. He had to explain himself.

"You're brilliant with developing new technology and selling it but you don't know about…"

Starkiller cut him off again.

"About the irregularities along the Imperial border? I know. I know about the missing shipments, the odd numbers within record, and before you say anything, the same thing is happening on the other side of the border. Boos, did you seriously think I didn't notice?"

Delamee was shocked. "You're either working on some new device, or you're away. I've never seen you working on the books"

"When I can I do," said Starkiller, raising his voice. "I'm hurt by this Boos. Not just because you knocked out my security droids at Harant Palace in order to make the attack possible- thus possibly ruining my reputation in the process, but because I trusted you. We were friends Boos. I helped your kids. And for what? To cause a war with Carnor Jax's Empire? The Empire isn't responsible for the problems along the border. Someone else is"  
"The Alliance Republic?" Delamee timidly asked.

"Not them either. It's someone else, and I don't know who it is. It's been bothering me ever since I've been aware of a new power in the galaxy. Blast it, I did not need you to make a move. Do you know what this means?"

Delamee nearly fell, but Starkiller held him.

"I'll make the statement," said Delamee, defeated. He wondered how his children would fare in his disgrace.

* * *

Speaker Ot left the Parliament relatively late. It was quite the effort to talk the other speakers out of declaring war on the Empire. Even with Boos Delamee's confession, there were plenty within the House who wanted a war. If not with the Empire, then with the equally despised Republic. War was not a good option; not now in this current financial situation.

She looked up and was surprised to see Kaine Starkiller leaning against a luxurious landspeeder of a sort that she had never seen before.

Without a doubt, Starkiller was throwing his hat into the landspeeder industry. It was a bold move, considering how competitive said industry was, and more importantly, what had just transpired with the CEO of Starkiller Industries.

Honestly however, Ot had to admit that the landspeeder itself was very good looking, and Starkiller, for all of his flaws, knew how to work a machine.

Tentatively, she approached. Not that she had much of a choice, as Starkiller was in her path. Or rather, would place himself in her path.

"Hello Mr. Starkiller, have you come here to advertise a new product?" she asked.

The corner of Starkiller's mouth turned upwards to form a mischievous smile.

"I guess that would be one of the effects. I'm actually here to give this lovely landspeeder to you. I call it the Swiftwind. The first of a new line vehicles made within the Confederacy. I couldn't help but notice that Sorosuub hunk of junk you arrived in the other night. A lady of your standing should travel around in a finer sort of vehicle, from a finer sort of place"

Ot almost giggled. "That's a good pitch for these current times. How long has this been in production?"

"Two years," replied Starkiller. "It was Boos' idea"

"You mean Delamee?" asked Ot. This was getting awkward.

"Yes. He's always been loyal to the Confederacy. He never intended for anyone to come out harmed. I don't think him or that Wren woman knew they had a maniac amidst them," Starkiller said.

Ot recalled the sight of that Mandalorian who had his blaster on her. She had been very close to getting killed.

"It's a good idea," Ot said, looking at, and referring to, the landspeeder.

Starkiller looked at the landspeeder. "Yes it is. Will you have it?"

"It does look better than the carriage I usually take home"

Kaine Starkiller beamed, and tossed the keys at her. Ot nearly fumbled the catch.

"Then it's yours!" he said.

She looked at the keys. Attached to the chain was a metallic tag which read:

**A pretty girl needs a good ride**

Ot blushed. "The Aquilian Ranger would never be so lewd"

Starkiller shrugged.

"He does sound like a wet blanket. But I do owe him one. If you had died, there'd be a war, and war is bad for business. And business is good for me" he said.

"What about me?" she asked, offended that he was so callously talking about her loss of life.

"You're a pretty girl. With a pretty good ride," he then winked and turned away.

* * *

**3**

* * *

Carnor Jax sat on one of his lesser thrones as the lone escapee of the _Gelidus_, a woman called Jatha Guryan, kowtowed before him. He was garbed in the modified, black, version of the Red Guard's outfit he used to wear when he was still the Emperor's guard along with Kir Kanos.

Princess Chrysis stood by his right side as he questioned the prostrate officer. Her face was concealed, much like her father's – it had been one of his demands, that any member of his family was to have his or her face concealed. Princess Chrysis had her own approach to that demand; a golden cast had been of her face, which she wore. Few knew that she wore a golden, expressionless version of her face over her own face. The mask, in conjunction with her pulled, pinned up, space black hair, made her look more regal than usual.

"You have done well Ensign Guryan. The information which you have given me is of extreme value to the Empire. I – we are in your debt. You are now a lieutenant, until you are promoted, or are killed. You are to be assigned to Admiral Blim on board the Domina. You are dismissed Lieutenant Guryan" said Carnor Jax with his hand raised in an imitation of a regal gesture.

The young lady kept her eyes to the ground and continued bowing down, even as she left Carnor Jax's. When the door closed behind her, Chrysis turned to her father, and said:

"Father, we are facing a new threat," she said.

Carnor Jax remained silent on his throne for a few seconds.

"This is no new threat girl. They used droids. Who else uses droids in their armies?" asked Carnor Jax in a low growl.

Chrysis knew that she had to choose her words very carefully. Her father had always been easy to anger; his temper wasn't getting any better as he aged further. His outfit concealed just how old he was.

"Father we may be falling for an enemy's trap. Droid armies are easy to buy; so much that even a measly pirate can have an army at his or her beck and call. Our spies haven't brought us all of the information we need to pursue any action. The New Republic could force us into a war with the CIS so that they can attack us when we are fully engaged. We could lose under those circumstances. Remember father, the state of the Imperial Remnant when you came to power?" she reasoned with the old man.

"I remember. We could have all been wiped out then. The petty squabbles between the Rebels and the Seperatists spared us from destruction. While they bickered, I forced the rebellious Moffs to kneel. I see what you are saying girl. But then who is our enemy?" said Carnor Jax, beginning to think out loud. "The Rebel scum have always been at our throats, but they do not love the Seperatists, nor would they ally with them…"

Now it was time to interrupt her father's musing. If he'd continue, then he'd be inventing new enemies. Someone useful might actually die.

"There could be a fourth power at play. Perhaps a league of pirates, the Chiss, or something else. We need to investigate before we act," said Chrysis. She was perhaps the only one who could speak to him in this way. After her brother's death, she was his sole heir. She alone donned the captain's crimson armor of the Imperial Knights, which had once belonged to her brother. Only she could talk sense into him.

"Your brother would have known," said Carnor Jax, as if simply thinking about him was enough for her father to do the same. She was sure that her brother would indeed have known. If he hadn't fought Luke Skywalker that day, things would have been very different. Chrysis was certain that her father would be much easier to deal with. She never saw them in any argument. He was the prodigal son.

Carnor Jax stepped off of the throne and climbed down.

"What are we supposed to do now?" he asked. That was another problem. Carnor Jax, the man who had saved the Empire, was getting forgetful. He had never been forgetful. No doctor dared diagnose him though.

"The traitor's execution" Chrysis said. It was a petty task, but it would keep her father's mind active without distressing him.

"Ah! Of course. FN-2187, otherwise known by his squadmates as 'Slip'. A curious name, given to him by his fellows due to his clumsiness. Did you know that he claimed that it was FN-2003 who was the clumsy one?" Carnor Jax released a low growl from his gut. "I despise men like him. They are a blight to the armed forces, and their disease spreads"

Chrysis walked with her father towards the courtyard. FN-2187 stood in the center, stripped of his armor. Two stormtroopers stood next to him, waiting for the next order.

Chrysis studied his face closely; the espression on it was the same she had seen on so many traitors: fearful and desperate. His skin was what most humans would consider 'black' – it was only slightly darker than her father's skin, and her own.

He looked at her father in absolute fear.

"Please my lord! Have mercy!" said the traitor, before Carnor Jax raised his fist. FN-2187 was lifted off of the ground, as the stormtroopers backed away. As Carnor Jax clenched his fist, the traitor's body began to contract. The man called Slip began to scream.

"Please!" he shouted out.

Carnor Jax's fist clenched more. The traitor's arms and legs broke and tightened around his body. As he screamed more loudly, more bones broke. Blood began to flow from his mouth, nose, and ears.

Finally, the traitor's head was pushed back, until there was a sickening crack. Slip's body was turned into a ball, or something close to it. Carnor Jax let his hand fall; the body fell as well. The stormtroopers dragged it away.

"Let us return to our business of running this Empire," Carnor Jax said, turning his back on the courtyard. Chrysis spotted the spy master approach. She hoped he had more information on what was happening at the border.

* * *

**4**

* * *

Magnifico woke up from another nightmare just in time to hear the door chime. He had been through the motions before; his clothes and the safety suit he wore whenever he had to leave the apartment and wander about the _Vengeful Spirit II_ were next to his bedside. His robot maidens were already helping him get dressed, while another went to the door.

Unsurprisingly, it was Maximillian, in his human guise, whom he found waiting for him in the lounge. Magnifico tried to figure out for himself why the robot was there; he did not feel the tumultuous emotions of battle; in spite of his apartment's shielding, he could feel those to varying degrees, almost always coming from whatever ship or station that the Warmaster had decided needed to be attacked.

Presently, his greatest fear was that he was going to be taken to the Warmaster himself. He had so many reasons to fear that monstrosity in human form. Magnifico knew he had made a mistake allying himself to the Warmaster before he had even met him, when he observed his mind from a safer distance; never had the mutant who had once called himself the Mule encountered such a mind, shattered and then brought together in the worse possible manner, like a mug that had been clumsily glued together by crippled hands.

He hoped that there'd be a planet which needed conversion.

"The Warmaster calls you," said Maximillian.

Magnifico's heart could have stopped. It would have, in the past; Maximillian's arguments had convinced him to join the Warmaster's cause, and with that, a new lease on life. A new heart was given to him which was stronger. His entire body was strong enough to survive now, although in terms of physical strength, he could never match the Warmaster, his brutes, Maximillian, or even Lady Atreides.

He should have just died in peace on Kalgan of his illness.

"Calls me for what?" asked Magnifico, trying to assert himself.

One glare from Maximillian's blazing red eyes was enough to tell him that it was a failed attempt.

"Just follow me. You'll figure it out," replied the robot in human form with dead coolness.

Magnifico had no choice. He had to follow the crimson robot along the hellish corridors of the _Vengeful Spirit II_, recoiling at each shadow, into the wretched lifts which threatened to dive deep into Tartarus, until finally they arrived at the Warmaster's great Throne Room.

He lowered his head as soon as he saw the Warmaster himself sitting on a throne which seemed too small for his giant frame. Magnifico had sensed him, while in the lift, before he entered the damned throne room. His fractured mind was distinct.

"Warmaster Lupercal," said Magnifico, lowering his head towards the giant man. After so much time, genuflecting before the Warmaster – or anyone else – was still humiliating and infuriating. The man once known as the Mule, First Citizen of the Union of Worlds had to keep his yap shut however; it was when he was in the Warmaster's presence that he was reminded of just how overpowered he was. "How may I help?"

The Warmaster pointed at a section of the wall, which opened up, revealing an open space the size of a closet.

"Get in there" he said, speaking with that odious voice of his. "We will be receiving guests. Play with them"

Magnifico's curiosity received stimulation, at least.

What guests? For what purpose were they for?

The mutant dared not ask those questions from the Warmaster himself. He simply bowed and entered the open crevice. He would have to wait and watch as he had been doing since that dark day on the _Sundog_.

"Make sure to remove your helmet once you enter," added the Warmaster, as if Magnifico hadn't known that. But the Warmaster knew how much the mutant loathed his surroundings within the _Vengeful Spirit II_.

Magnifico stepped into the opening. The wall closed behind him. It was a perfect fit for his gangly frame. The Warmaster had installed this space just for him. Magnifico let out a curse.

Mechanical arms came down from the ceiling, and clamped around Magnifico's helmet. Metallic claws unfastened it and then pulled upwards, leaving the mutant's mind exposed to the Chaos of the ship. Magnifico nearly panicked.

However, the nauseating sensation did not hit him as hard as he had expected. Magnifico realized that this crevice must have some form of shielding. Enough to remain sande. And useful.

The wall suddenly turned transparent. Magnifico could see the interior of the Throne room as clearly as if the wall wasn't there. Two men were entering, both of which possessed powerful minds; he could feel them quite well. Magnifico knew what the Warmaster wanted of him.

* * *

More so than on Moraband, Darth Krayt could feel the dark side permeating everything surrounding him. It was intense; many dark side disciples would succumb to such an assault upon their minds and souls.

He found himself wondering what sort of vessel he was in, where it had come from, and more importantly, who had built it. Darth Krayt felt something tapping at his mind; something which stood out from the surrounding aura within the ship. Mentally, Krayt shoved it away, but he knew that the tapping would not leave.

He and his pupil Darth Madra stood within an immense throne room. It was vast and high enough to easily contain within it five AT-AT walkers. Presently, it seemed empty and abandoned, much like an ancient ruin, abandoned to the mercy of the elements. But it was not abandoned. There was someone else present. Sitting upon a throne which seemed too small for his massive frame, was the being everyone called the Warmaster.

Darth Krayt stepped forward. He looked at the giant before him. In spite of his monstrous size and appearance, the man was human, or at least had used to be. There was something about his appearance which suggested that he had been marred somehow, although it wasn't immediately apparent. He regarded the two Sith with little emotion.

"What brings you here?" said the man on the throne. His speech was rough; there was a hard palatal edge to his words.

Again, Krayt felt the tapping against his mind, and again, he swatted it away.

Surrounded by darkness as he was, Darth Krayt could feel his pupil shudder. That annoyed him. A Sith was at home with darkness; there was nothing to fear within it. Later, if possible, he would address it with Darth Madra.

"The dark side," said Darth Krayt as if there was no big deal about it.

"The dark side?" asked the great Warmaster on his throne.

"Of the Force. I assume you have learned of the Force," Darth Krayt stated.

"I've heard of it. I'm sure that I've grasped the concept. Now tell me, Darth Krayt, why has the dark side brought you here before me?" the Warmaster asked.

"I wouldn't know that Warmaster," said Krayt. "The Dark Side of the Force did not show me why I should meet with you, only that I should"

"Having a local guide in this galaxy, would be to my benefit, I admit," said the Warmaster. "I have been told that the Sith only come in two, and that they are always in conflict with one another"

Darth Krayt stepped forward. "That has been the way for many centuries. It is natural for a Sith to have power, and to crave it"

"Which explains why there are only two. More would ruin the balance, and create unnecessary and ruinous conflict, am I correct?"

Darth Krayt nodded. Again, he felt the tapping against his mind. It was growing more intense. He wondered if Darth Madra was submitted to the same attack. He soon got the answer.

All of a sudden, Krayt felt a stirring in the Force. He quickly stepped aside. Darth Madra's crimson blade slashed the ground he had been standing on milliseconds before. Darth Krayt lit up his lightsaber, and aimed for his disciple's head. Madra blocked him.

Darth Krayt then slid his energy blade along Madra's in a swift, smooth motion, swinging it and aiming for Madra's legs. Madra leapt upwards and made a back summersault into the air. Using the Force, Darth Krayt grabbed him as he spun and slammed him against the ground. He then allowed the dark side to flow through harmful energy coming out in electronic streams which struck Darth Madra in full strength.

Before Madra could get up, Darth Krayt pulled him towards him. Krayt swung his lightsaber. Madra was cut neatly in two.

"That was a faster resolution than I thought," said the Warmaster.

"But a surprise. I didn't expect an attack from him so soon," said Darth Krayt, looking at the Warmaster accusingly. The tapping against his mind had stopped

"I had one of my people tamper with his mind while you both entered"

Darth Krayt wasn't surprised.

"I felt such tamperings against my mind as well"

The Warmaster snickered.

"You are strong. My man is very good at changing people's minds. He was good with your pupil. Not so good with you, I see. You are very useful. I can see us developing a good relationship"

"Then you accept my proposal?"

"Proposal?"

"To serve as your guide," said Darth Krayt surely.

The corner of the Warmaster's mouth turned up.

"Aye. Horus Lupercal, Warmaster and Primarch of the Black Legion accepts your proposal"

Darth Krayt bowed down. He knew in his heart that the dark side was greatly benefited, and whatever fate had in reserve for the universe would come to pass as everything else would.

* * *

Magnifico only came out of his hiding place once the strange man with the facial markings and the Warmaster had left the Throne Room, and the devices had returned his helmet to his head. The wall opened, and the mutant came out. Maximillian waited for him, standing by the side of the open crevice.

"How was the show?" asked the robot.

"Things are heating up," replied Magnifico. A new player, a local, had joined them. This was to be expected. When conquering any place, you needed local allies. Of course, Magnifico was capable of making the most belligerent men into allies, but at the cost of their inner spark, that which made them special. He wondered how much longer would things go before the Great Push would commence.

* * *

**5**

* * *

The casualties were not as high as expected, but they could not be ignored.

Of a crew of 430, four hundred remained within the Enterprise. Each division was affected equally. Belizara was one of the casualties, along with her brutish companion, and her brother, lieutenant Hylos. There was nothing to do but dispose of the dead, and to return to New Paris and repair the Enterprise, and inform Starfleet of what had happened.

There was a concern that there were more of those creatures around. Due to his conversations with Belizara, Kirk was convinced that this was not the case, but precaution was not an evil in this case.

He already knew what to say to Starfleet. A flotilla of at least three ships with Betazoid or telepathically endowed crewmen should scour this part of space, armed with specially modified photon torpedoes, until there was no doubt that the entities similar to the one the Enterprise had encountered was gone.

Kirk sat on the command chair.

"Mr. Chekov, have you set out our course?" he asked.

"Aye _keptin_"

Kirk took a deep breath.

"Mr. Sulu, engage"

Before Sulu could do anything, the entire ship began to shake. The tremors were so strong that Kirk had a hard time staying on his seat, wondering why there weren't any belts on them. He quickly turned to Spock before he turned to Scotty. Whenever things like this happened, they tended to be related to strange scientific phenomena, which was aggravating considering the mess they had just endured.

"Mr. Spock, what is going on?" he asked.

Somehow, Spock managed to maintain his balance and look through his scope even as the ship was shaking like a thin branch in a hurricane.

"We are being pulled by a powerful gravity well," he said. Then he suddenly added with an uncharacteristic, alarmed tone, "There's a wormhole ten thousand kilometers from the Enterprise!"

Kirk turned to Scotty, who was at his post behind the engineering console.

"Scotty get us out of here! Warp factor eight!"

"I'm trying captain! She won't budge!" yelled out Scotty. Sweat ran profusely from his face "Captain! If we keep on like this the Enterprise will burn a gasket!"

Captain Kirk was about to turn to Spock for a solution when he noticed the viewscreen. The stars were beginning to distort and form a ring around a patch of darkness.

"Lieutenant Uhura! Send out a distress signal now!" he said.

The Enterprise was swallowed by the wormhole as Uhura transmitted her final message.

* * *

_Well, here's the second chapter. It took me a lot of effort to write it, especially with the weekend I've had. The easiest parts for me were the portions of Enterpise adventure, and the short stint with the Speaker Ot, Kaine Starkiller, and the Aquilian Ranger (There's a secret about those two. I won't tell it. _**NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW**_). The other two portions, regarding Carnor Jax and the goings on of the Warmaster (we all know who he is, but I'll play coy until a later date) and the introduction of Darth Krayt were a bit more clumsily handled. I think I'll start focusing my chapters on a single storyline from now on._

_I'm not usually a fan of race-bending (I'm one of those putzes who thought that the people of Asgard should be pasty white nordics, and that Idris Elba, as good as he is, should not have been Heimdall) however, with Carnor Jax, I needed him to stick out in my mind. The ordinary white dude we see in Crimson Empire (for a panel, really) was like every other soldier in my mind. Besides, the Empire needs more diversity, amirite? This is a different continuity, one which scavenges from the EU (now called Legends) freely, so I hope I'm forgiven._

_See ya next time. _


	3. Announcement

_It was while writing this chapter that realized that I wasn't going to finish writing the grand epic I had imagined. The first part of this chapter was easy - the Star Wars part was getting hard. Truth be told, I bit off more than I could chew. Either way, he's the last chapter I'll be doing of this particular iteration of this story. I'll leave it as is, unedited and in its rough draft form. If anyone was interested in this story, my apologies, but I know I'll butcher certain characters if I continue further. I hope to write a new story soon._

On the bounce!

Those words came back to Juan Rico as he checked his scanners. The city was littered with potential enemies. At least they weren't swarming the city; Rico had had enough of swarming enemies.

Four dots approached his location; Rico readied himself. Three of the dots broke off; one continued in his direction. Rico finally could see the potential enemy when it turned the corner, and it came into sight.

Rico grumbled. It was one of the skeleton robots. He could never understand why anyone would make a robot look like a skeleton. VINCENT had called them Terminators – T-800s if one demanded a more specific nomenclature. Rico had to admit that it could look intimidating; those glowing red eyes looked evil, and the plasma based rifle it held could cause damage. However, Rico was sure that it would be far more intimidating if the robot skeleton actually had flesh on it, let alone more armor plating.

It turned away, after looking at Rico for a while. Whatever scan the robot skeleton had did not penetrate Rico's armor; as far as the robot was concerned, Rico was just another robot – a gorilla made of steel, or something harder than that. Rico looked at his scanner and confirmed that the Terminator was going in the opposite direction.

He checked his clock. Rico had been standing in front of the Library door for almost an hour; that was too much time for an M.I. to stand still, and not bounce. They were mobile for a reason.

Standing still was required however. _Rama XIII_ had too many murderous robots within its cylindrical form. All of them were built to kill other living beings. Why they were there was a mystery, but the main computer of Rama XIII had willingly assisted VINCENT in neutralizing them as a threat; it was a band-aid solution. With the help of the main computer, VINCENT had hacked the robots and made a few modifications so that they wouldn't attack the humans and aliens in the hotel; however, the robots were constantly updating themselves. VINCENT had to constantly make updates to his hacking in order to make it stick.

Every time, VINCENT had to return to the main library of the city within the McKendree cylinder in order to make these updates. Ever since Rico's capsule opened up inside Rama XIII, he had escorted VINCENT into the city; his suit disguised him well.

VINCENT was taking too much time. He only ever took ten minutes at most to update. Rico was concerned; the murderous robots' immunity to VINCENT's hacking was getting stronger.

Another dot appeared. Rico looked and saw a representative of the other type of robot roaming the city, crossing the street. It looked more like a traditional robot than the Terminator. Its silver plated body shined beneath Rama XIII's great solar lamp. Like the previous machine, it too had a red eye; a single red eye which was in fact a scanner moving left and right at a steady pace over its grill of a lower face. Its weaponry seemed more antiquated; the blaster rifle had a bayonet, and a sword hung from its belt. Captain Sisko had a sword like that one; he had taken it shortly after he had arrived, after destroying its previous owner in a fight which nearly destroyed VINCENT's efforts to keep the robots nullified.

VINCENT called them Cylons, and they intermingled freely with the Terminators, which could be a problem.

There were three types of robots populating Rama XIII's interior; the first were the Terminators, and the second were the Cylons. The third type entered the city very rarely. Rico was glad for that. It was larger than the others were and not at all humanoid in appearance. It had a body that was much like a ten-foot turtle, set upon grasshopper like legs; and three heads on three snake-like necks, which always moved restlessly. VINCENT called them Manshonyaggers; their grasshopper like legs reminded Rico of the Bugs.

Yet another dot appeared coming in his direction.

Rico remained calm as another Terminator came into sight. It walked in his direction and didn't turn away. The robot's red eyes were on him; the suit's instruments detected the robot's tentative scans. Rico considered his options.

If that thing was going to take a few more steps in his direction, he'd attack. There were a few complications with that option. Two rather important complications stuck out in his mind. The first was that any fight with any of the robots might destroy VINCENT's programming which kept them non-combative; individual robots would defend themselves, and since they were all telemetrically linked, such action would spread until every robot was on full attack mode. The second complication had to do with the suit he was wearing.

Ever since he had enlisted, Rico had worn two types of suits; the marauder suit worn by the rank and file, and the command suit worn by officers. Presently, he was wearing neither of those suits, but an experimental new suit developed by a mysterious man called Lazarus Long – a man Rico knew nothing about. At first, the new suit didn't look too much different from a marauder suit, even though it was supposed to be a new form of command suit. Either way, the M.I. wearing it still looked like a steel gorilla with a big head. But the modifications were apparent once an M.I. lieutenant like Rico wore it.

For starters, the armor was lighter than that of the old suits, but it was ten times stronger. Adding to the armor was a capacity to generate a force-field, either as a bubble encompassing the entire body, or an energy shield similar to the ones used by ancient warriors. A new power core had been added to the suit, one which allowed a newly recruited M.I. to spend two years in it without worrying about power or jump-juice; this power core was what allowed the suit to generate a force-field to begin with.

Weapons had improved. The rocket launcher could launch pee-wee A-rockets at a faster rate, almost like an old fashioned Maxim. The Y-Rack could carry more mine and H.E. Bombs. The suit came with two hand-flamers, which had been significantly changed. Not only were they larger, but in addition to shooting out blazing streams of fire, they could also shoot beams of destructive energy; undoubtedly this was technology taken from the Bugs, who were quite proficient at that sort of weaponry, and which Rico had seen up close in the tunnels during 'Operation Royalty'.

The most radical change came in the form of the instrumentation within the helmet. Infrared Snoopers and the reflectors over one's forehead were gone, made obsolete by the new visor. No longer would one have to bite down, nod their head or turn it back suddenly to get a reading or a specific channel. The new helmet interpreted the brainwaves of the M.I. within, and brought up everything automatically. This made the helmet only slightly less larger than before. The M.I. still looked like a steel gorilla nonetheless.

On paper, the modifications sounded good. By now however, Rico was an old soldier, even if he was halfway to thirty, and he was quite accustomed to the old suits; to biting down and lifting his Snoopers up to eyeball a shot. He had barely any time to test the new suit and get used to it. Rico still didn't know how strong or fast the armor could make him.

He would have a chance to test his suit in just a few seconds. The Terminator continued to approach.

Rico opened a channel. "VINCENT. I've got a Terminator here. Can you do anything before I have to get rough?" for a moment, Rico considered using the words rough and roughneck as puns, but quickly discarded the silly idea.

"I'm sorry Lieutenant Rico, did you say that a T-800 was approaching?" the robot asked on the other side. Rico wondered what the hovering little machine was doing inside that library. Probably just staring at the computer console.

"Yes," Rico replied. "Would you like to know more?"

"That will be unnecessary Lieutenant Rico. I'll do what I can," said the robot.

Rico was concerned by those words: 'do what I can'. It implied that VINCENT might not be able to knock out those robots anymore.

There was little time to think more deeply about that. Rico's scanner immediately alerted him to a flare of energy coming from the Terminator's weapon. He could see with his actual eyes the plasma bolt coming at him; time seemed to slow down at that moment. Within a second, the bolt would hit Rico straight into the chest; within the space of a millisecond, Rico stepped out of the way of the bolt's path.

The sound of an explosion and of falling bits of brick and mortar were enough to tell Rico that the bolt had opened a hole in the wall behind him. He didn't bother to look back.

Despite the failure of its attack, the T-800 continued to approach while shooting its plasma rifle; it wouldn't give up, even as Rico quickly dodged each hit and charged at it. the Terminator shot a third time before Rico was on it. Rico's left hand went for the plasma rifle, and ripped it out of the robot skeleton's hands, while crushing it at the same time. With the momentum of that motion, Rico delivered a tremendous backhand punch which was strong enough to rip the T-800's head off of its body. Rico followed that by tearing the Terminator's body in half.

He was quite surprised by how easy that action was. Rico could now see that this new suit not only offered greater strength to whomever might wear it than the older marauder suits, but it also enhanced a soldier's reflexes as well.

There was no moment to celebrate Three more dots appeared on his scanner; three bright red dots. They appeared from behind one of the buildings. Two of them were Terminators like the one Rico had destroyed.

One of them was a Cylon. That didn't make any sense at all.

Again, Juan Rico readied himself for a fight; but he began thinking of how to escape. If he did start a fight, many of the robots would start fighting as well, VINCENT's hacking being undone by their telemetric signals.

A T-800 raised its rifle and fired. Rico dodged the shot, but another shot from the Cylon bounced off his force field. He felt a slight jolt, but nothing more. The three robots approached; and then they collapsed, the red glows of their eyes disappearing.

"Even the strongest leopard should not challenge a pack of hyenas," said a properly toned, robot voice from behind. Rico pivoted to see VINCENT hovering behind him; one of his robot arms was extended out of his round body, and within the clasp of his four fingers, he carried a box. Rico couldn't help but wonder if the contents of the box was the reason for the robot's delay.

"I could have taken care of them, but thank you, anyway," said Rico. "What's in the box?"

"Famous last words," said VINCENT in his usually snide manner. "As for what's in the box, it contains within it some more information on the history of Rama XIII and the mystery of its workings and destinations. Something I need to show Captain Sisko,"

VINCENT turned and hovered away.

Rico walked towards the severed head of the T-800 and stepped on it, crushing it like an egg.

"Are you coming or not?" asked VINCENT, hovering still some distance away.

For a moment, Rico considered cheekily saying, '_Yes ma_', but then he remembered his own mother, and remained silent as he walked forward.

* * *

Rico followed VINCENT along a block until they reached the Chevy. It wasn't really a Chevrolet, but a shuttle which looked like a Chevy pickup truck from 1967, except that it had no wheels.

With one leap, Rico claimed his place within the open cargo area; wearing the suit, he was too bulky to fit in the pilot cabin. VINCENT gently laid the box next to him, and entered the pilot cabin. Given his shape, VINCENT probably wouldn't fit into that area as well, which was why he had ripped out the seats with those robot arms of his. They were surprisingly strong for how thin they seemed; VINCENT had told him that he had improved them when he first arrived at the Rama XIII, as well as adding two more fingers to his manipulators for added dexterity. Rico was happy for the change; VINCENT would have been a terrible pilot otherwise.

Slowly, the Chevy ascended upwards, until it stopped at a position between the cylinder's rim and axis. It then flew forwards.

For a moment, Rico considered hypnotizing himself for a short nap; fifteen minutes was a good estimate for the time needed to 'freeze' before arriving at the hotel. Almost immediately, a square appeared on his visor with a spiral in it, asking Rico if he wanted any assistance in hypnotizing himself. Rico quickly lifted his helmet off his head and allowed it to fall forwards and hang over his chest by the hinge.

He looked up. Although the Rama XIII was in effect a mobile McKendree cylinder, with living space along the interior of the rim, he couldn't see anything but clouds and blue sky. Just two feet above the Chevy there was an intangible canopy, which offered whatever inhabitants of the cylinder, the illusion of living on a planet by presenting a fake sky above their heads.

Of course, the cylinder had no other inhabitants except for the people in the hotel, all of them castaways who miraculously found the Rama XIII. Although there was an abundance of flora, any fauna within the cylinder was non-existent. There weren't even insects buzzing along from flower to flower. It felt strange, even to Rico, who had fought a war with the arachnids.

Biots did exist. They were bizarre biological imitations of robots, and they fulfilled within Rama XIII's ecosystem the same role as the actual animals; some of them even maintained the parts of the cylinder reserved for human habitation.

It was good, livable real estate. The Terran Federation could use structures like this one; a shame it was so difficult to make them; humanity had no choice but to wage war with the Bugs.

Rico would have loved to bring his wife and son here, along with his father. The M.I. lieutenant sighed. He wondered what they were doing. His father was in Camp Curry, doing good work in training new M.I.s. His wife and son should still be in Sanctuary; Rico wondered how much time had passed since the last time they had seen each other. There could be as much as a century separating Rico from his family.

He looked down to see farmlands being tended by large biots. A few Manshonyaggers passed by, but they did nothing to the biots. It was fortunate; most of their food came from these farms; meat came from cloning vats located somewhere else, perhaps the bow of Rama XIII. Food was timely delivered through subterranean tunnels on wheeled carts of various sizes.

The Chevy suddenly stopped and started its descent. Rico was startled; he checked his clock and saw that fifteen minutes had indeed passed by without him even knowing it. The Chevy soon touched the landing pad not far from the larger landing area.

Rico suddenly heard static coming out of his earpiece. It quickly cleared up.

"Lieutenant Rico, this is Captain Sisko. Do you read me?" asked Sisko, his voice now clearly audible. Rico tapped the earpiece with his finger. This was something his helmet couldn't do for him, especially since his helmet was still hanging over his chest.

"Lieutenant Rico here. I've just arrived. Is there anything you want?" asked Rico.

"I need to speak with you in the manager's office. There's been another S.O.S." Sisko said. It sounded serious.

Rico picked up his pace.

* * *

The door opened as soon as Rico arrived. Sisko was sitting behind the desk, studying a computer monitor. Sisko stood up, but remained behind the desk, leaning over it; his weight held on his finger tips.

"It seems we may be getting new guests. I've just received a distress call from a ship that seems to be a short distance away from Rama XIII. Nine thousand kilometers, in fact. The call was made by a human," said Sisko, moving away from the desk; as he spoke, he almost seemed distracted. Rico wondered if Sisko suspected a trap; after all, every being within Rama XIII had been brought in by the cylinder itself, without any distress signal being received at all.

"You think it's a trap?" Rico asked.

Sisko shrugged. "That's always a possibility, although who in this portion of the galaxy would know what a human is? Either way, that's not what I'm thinking about. As an officer of Starfleet, it is my duty to help out those in need, whether they are human or not. I can't ignore this call. However, there is an element of risk with this rescue, and not just because this might be a clever lure. We know nothing, about the vessel we are in; VINCENT is hard at work trying to figure out what its trajectory is, but right now, we know next to nothing in spite of the main computer's cooperation.

"Although this is a McKendree cylinder, this is not a stationary structure confined to a given orbit. The Rama XIII is a ship. It has a space drive, which we don't understand. I don't know how that works with the centrifugal interior, but somehow, it does.

"The problem I have is if I leave on board the Flyer to help whomever might be in distress within that ship, there is a good possibility that the Rama XIII might take off, and leave me stranded, in a space with no stars," said Sisko.

"Can't the ship come any closer?" asked Rico.

"I wouldn't have a problem if they could come here lieutenant," answered Sisko.

Rico had a passing thought.

"Was the distress signal sent out by a man or a woman?" he asked. It was a silly question, as a distress signal could be a few pings in Morse code. But Rico couldn't help but hope that anyone from his reality could appear, as unrealistic as that was.

"It was a man's voice that I heard," said Sisko. "Were you hoping it was a woman?"

Rico nodded. He reminded himself that the rules of other realities were different; although in his own reality, women made up the majority of a starship crew and vastly outnumbered men as pilots, that would not be the same for Captain Sisko.

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Sisko. "The reason I called you here was to ask you to join me. As you suggested, this may be a trap, and you seem to be the best man to get out of it. I would ask VINCENT, but he's occupied with interpreting that computer data. I've told you my concerns with this; if you do come, you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting for me. The choice is yours"

Rico smiled. "Captain, this is the sort of thing I like to do. Now, what do we know about the ship?"

Sisko reached out and turned the monitor he had been looking at before around. Rico was perplexed to see a strange looking ship amidst the starless dark void, mottled green in color, with four sail-like folds extended from one of the ends, while tendrils extended in the opposite direction. Rico couldn't tell what the object resembled more; it either looked like a mollusk, or an exotic flower.

"What is that thing?" Rico asked reflexively. He knew that Sisko was probably equally stunned.

"From what the computer is telling me, it's an organic vessel. They exist but rarely, and they're only viable in civilizations with highly advanced technology," said Sisko.

"Let's go!" said Rico. He was eager to do something. A good M.I. kept himself busy. An M.I. who did nothing was a sword with a blunt edge, and that was something that Rico couldn't stand.

* * *

Sisko piloted the Flyer towards the ship's opening. He focused his eyes on it. The dark void around was too disturbing. There were no stars out there. The only celestial body was a flash of light an infinity away. Sisko was aware that Rama XIII had taken them to a strange place; perhaps it was a part of space too distant from any star. Or maybe it was another dimension altogether.

The Delta Flyer came in easily and landed within what seemed to be the hangar bay. It was empty except for one other rocket ship which looked like it came out of a Captain Proton story. Sisko unbuckled his belt and turned around.

Rico occupied a huge amount of space within the Flyer, huddled in an awkward manner. A larger shuttle would have been better for him, but all of the other ships within Rama XIII were too damaged or too big to fit in the organic ship's hangar.

"_Hello. Can you hier me?_" asked a voice within Sisko's head. His neck straightened out.

Sisko turned to look at the armored M.I.

"Lieutenant Rico, did you say anything?" Sisko asked.

Rico moved slightly. "Didn't say a thing Captain"

Sisko tightened his lips.

"_Don't worry. You're not going bonkers. I'm human and I'm spieking to you through telepathic means. I tried to contact your companion, but it isn't easy. Telepathy isn't as easy for me anymore, not even with a Lens. Some minds have to be weak; others receptive. I guess you're receptive. Anyway, I've got bad news mate. You're walking into a trap. There's only two humans on board. Me and the other telepath which sent you the message. Check your scanners. You'll see several hostile aliens waiting for you inside the ship_," said the voice inside their heads.

Sisko turned towards the console before him. Telepaths were always complicated. A lying telepath could be dangerous. Yet Sisko couldn't help but feel sincerity when he heard the telepath's thoughts in his head. He studied the scanner.

It was as the voice had said. There were numerous lifeforms within the ship. He couldn't tell which one was human.

"Lieutenant Rico, do you see anything in your scanners?" he asked.

"Yes," said Rico. "I can see numerous targets in my scanner Captain,"

Sisko exhaled. "It is a trap"

There was a moment of dreaded silence.

"Do we leave?" asked Rico. It didn't sound like he wanted to. Sisko wasn't inclined to leave either.

"You're human, right?" said Sisko, speaking in a manner that he'd hope might be picked up by the mystery telepath. Through the corner of his eye, he could see Rico shift around; he wondered what the lieutenant was thinking.

"_Didn't I tell you I was?_" said the voice

"Stay calm," said Sisko "We'll get you out of here"

"_I appreciate all the help I can get, but there are complications,_" said the voice.

"Complications?" asked Sisko.

"_Bloody hell,_" said the voice. _"I guess they can't find me here, and the other guy is as good as dead. This won't be easy though. The Lens does let me transmit memories, but it's quite an effort. Are you ready?"_

Sisko looked at Rico who was probably extremely confused.

"Yes," he said.

"What's going on?" Rico asked. It was an inevitable question.

"One of the humans on board is contacting me through telepathic means," Sisko said.

"Telepathy? How do you know it's human?" asked Rico understandably.

"I know," Sisko replied. He wished he could convey the sincerity of the telepathic message to Rico. "I know in a way in which I can't explain"

"You're lucky I trust you. But I will kill you if you do anything funny," said Rico plainly.

"_Okay, here it comes,_" said the voice suddenly.

Sisko's mind was suddenly flooded with powerful and vivid images.

He saw himself as a very young man, no younger than eighteen arriving on this very vessel inside the rocket ship which presently lay within the hangar. His face reminded Sisko of something which combined the qualities of a lamb with those of a cat; an unusual combination for sure. The young man wore a uniform, which Sisko did not recognize – space black-and-gold-and-silver with a cat's head as an emblem – but what drew his attention was the glowing Lens strapped to his wrist. Sisko recalled that the voice had said that he used the Lens for telepathy, and indeed, Sisko saw that the young man was using it to communicate with the organic ship.

"_It called itself a Vorlon transport. The ship was too old to remember more, and was already on the verge of death when I showed up,_" added the young man with the Lens.

Sisko silently nodded.

The young man had spent some days in the ship, sustained by the old, decaying ship, when newcomers arrived. Sisko saw a human in a black uniform which he took time to recognize as being eerily similar to famed Federation officer Pavel Chekov. The human wasn't alone, as he came in the company of several inhuman creatures of gruesome appearance. Their muted black and gray bodies looked skeletal and biomechanical. Some seemed to move in a bipedal and erect manner while others moved on all fours. Their beastly appearance was aided by a long reptilian tail which ended in a sharp spike. The heads were elongated, with no visible eyes, although the foreheads seemed to be semi-transparent. Most disturbingly, the aliens seemed to have an inner set of jaws besides their regular ones.

They attacked the young man with the Lens, forcing him to hide within the ship.

The human was controlling them using his telepathy; what his ultimate goal was unknown to the young man with the Lens, but his hold over them was tenuous. They broke free from it, and they did something unspeakable to him.

When they came upon Rama XIII, they forced what was left of the human to call for help, so that more fresh meat could arrive.

In the meantime, the young man with the Lens continued to hide and to stalk the aliens in a very dangerous game of cat and mouse.

_"I'm not quite the mouse though,"_ added the young man.

Indeed, at that moment, Sisko received an image of the young man striking at an isolated alien with an axe, cleaving its head in two. He felt the young man's pain as the creature's acidic blood fell on his hands.

"_It took two days for my hands to get better,_" explained the young man.

With a single, wordless thought, the young man conveyed what he wanted to do: he needed to kill the human on board out of a sense of mercy, and do the same to the ship; an action which would also result in the deaths of every alien on board.

Sisko solemnly looked at Rico. Given what he had seen of the unnamed aliens, Sisko could not hope to fight them. Rico could, if his armor was strong enough to withstand the creature's acid blood.

"Lieutenant Rico, how strong is your armor?" he asked.

Rico shifted. It was hard for him to get up in such a cramped compartment.

"It's supposedly stronger than the regular Marauder armors, which could easily take small arms fire and some amounts of heavy fire. This armor I think was made to be strong enough to stop the Bugs' beam weapons," Rico explained.

"What about corrosive materials? How does it fare against those?"

"This suit was made to withstand any environment, so there shouldn't be a problem," said Rico.

"Let's hope so. You're going out there on your own," said Sisko.

The only thing Sisko could hear was an electronic grunt of approval.

* * *

Rico had to admit that the new visor was probably an improvement. It was convenient not to flip the Snoopers over one's eyes whenever infrared vision was needed. It wasn't too hard getting used to the absence of the reflector over his forehead within his helmet. Scanner and other instrument readings could still be read in the same place, and Rico was picking up a lot of activity around him. The scanners were clear on the presence of something else in large quantities. If he hadn't been wearing his suit, he'd be scared.

Little was known about the hostiles. Out of a fear that they might understand human forms of communication, Captain Sisko had insisted that there be radio silence. Rico doubted that was a good option, but he understood the concern.

The scanners picked up a hostile directly over him. With his reflexes enhanced by the suit, Rico moved back, and a black shadow fell on the spot he had been on just moments before.

It was truly an ugly thing. It was also very fast; as soon as it was on the ground, it had leapt at Rico. The thing's mouth opened, and a secondary, internal jaw came out and banged against his visor. Rico was just as fast. He grabbed the internal jaw and he ripped it off the creature's mouth; he followed that with a jab which burst through the creature's body. Whatever acidic blood it had did not affect his armor.

Another creature replaced its fallen comrade. Rico quickly pulled out his hand-flamer. He couldn't set the interior of a space ship ablaze, so he switched the flamer to shoot out a beam.

He pulled the trigger. The beam pierced the creature's armor, and it fell down.

At that point, the attack truly began. Creatures charged from everywhere, from the front, from behind, and from on top. Rico's response was limited to using the hand-flamer on its beam mode, and his hands and fists. He smashed heads and tore limbs; his flamer broiled heads from the inside out. If Rico had his fellow M.I.s with him, the creatures within the ship would all be dead.

Unfortunately, Rico was alone; he was very lucky that the new suit was such a honey and could stand a beating, while dishing out just as much. Slowly but brutally, the cacophony of inhuman shrieks was decreasing, until only one creature remained.

It stood in front of Rico. The M.I. could easily see that the creature was about to charge him. Rico motioned the foul being to do so, challenging it.

The creature suddenly leapt towards Rico's ready fists; and then, it stopped in midair and was suddenly and violently slammed down on the ground. A second later, the blade of an axe was in its back.

Rico was quite astonished to see a young man – a young man, as old as he was when he signed up, that seemed quite harmless given his lack of stature and thin frame – holding the creature's tail in one hand, and the handle of the axe in his other.

"Hey there. I'm Ted Kelly, Pinlighter," said the young man with a face that reminded Rico of a cat crossed with a lamb.

"Lieutenant Juan Rico of the Mobile Infantry. You can call me Johnny," said Rico, extending his hand. The young Kelly let go of the creature's tail and shook it. Even wearing the suit, Rico was surprised by how strong the young man's grip was.

"Sorry for being late" said Kelly with an awkward smile. Rico couldn't help but notice the glowing object on his wrist.

"I'll wait until you're old enough to buy me a bear and a tenderloin steak," said Rico in a half joking manner. He pointed at the glowing bauble on Kelly's wrist. Ordinarily he would have ignored it and continued the mission, but his curiosity was piqued. "What is that?" he asked as he pointed at it. For whatever reason, it seemed unnatural to him; Rico knew not to put too much trust in such things.

"That's my Lens. A man named Kinison gave it to me. It helps me read other people's minds," said Kelly with another awkward smile.

"Splendid," replied Rico. The idea of telepathy seemed a bit ridiculous; if he hadn't put his trust on Sisko, he would have dismissed the idea altogether. "Okay. Let's just blow this ship up and get out of here"

Kelly nodded. "First thing's first. I'm going to be _spieking_ to you instead of speaking to you. That way we can stay silent and not attract more attention to ourselves"

Rico noticed the odd way in which Kelly said the word _speaking_. It was easy to conclude that it had to do with telepathy.

"Sure" Rico said. "But I'm not a telepath"

"_Not a problem_" said Kelly, his voice suddenly reverberating within Rico's mind. "_Just let out your thoughts as you would speak normally. I won't pick up any private chatter from your brain_"

Rico's mind was suddenly given instructions on how to do so.

"_Can you hear me?_" Rico asked, trying out telepathic communication for the first time.

"_Very much so,_" Kelly said "_I'll also allow you to sense the monsters in this ship. It'll make our lives easier_"

No sooner had Kelly said it, and Rico was aware of multitudes of creatures surrounding them. All of them hungered for unspeakable things. Even after he had killed a mob of them, Rico was both disgusted and fearful once their true malice was revealed.

However, he was quick to recover. He had done so before with the arachnids.

Rico's attention returned to the young man. At a first glance, he seemed woefully unequipped. Rico's scanners revealed otherwise. The young man's space black uniform was laced with metal within – metal of the same type as the axe in his hand, which seemed to be indestructible. In addition, x-rays, sonograms and infrareds revealed a body which was denser than a human body of that size should be. If Rico didn't know any better, the young man was part of a race of supermen.

No wonder that he had survived for so long.

"_I have several A-rockets with me. Their pee-wees, but they're nuclear,_" said Rico through his mind.

"_They're good enough. Follow me,_" said Kelly.

* * *

Rico was bemused by the corridors. He had never thought that he'd be inside of an organic ship before. It didn't make much sense to 'grow' an organic ship; organisms had blood vessels and glands, and to leave them exposed to space was dangerous. Living beings however were not to be underestimated, and it was very possible that a creature could live in space as its natural environment; if it could go millions of years without eating.

Kelly's telepathy was important in evading the creatures. They couldn't evade all. Rico was too big to hide in what passed for vents within the organic vessel. Confrontation was inevitable. They both had developed a strategy in which Rico would serve as bait to an unavoidable creature, while Kelly would hack them to bits with his axe, or disintegrate it with his gun.

Rico was quite fascinated by Kelly's gun. It was powerful enough to reduce a creature to a fine dust. However, within the organic corridors of the ship, it was dangerous to use. Kelly was careful.

Finally, they arrived at the main generator. Sabotaging it was simple; Rico timed the rockets accordingly, while Kelly carefully positioned them. Rico was almost certain he felt a sigh of relief.

"Rico! Do you copy?" asked Sisko suddenly through Rico's communicator, breaking the radio silence he had ordered. Something must have happened.

"Copy! What's up?" Rico asked.

"I'm surrounded by our enemies. I would suggest you hurry, and get ready for a hell of a fight," said the captain, cutting off his transmission.

Their return to the hangar was rushed and hurried given the imminent detonation. They passed through the inevitable hordes of creatures; Rico ahead, plowing them with the bulk of his armor, while Kelly swung his axe at the stragglers.

They came in every direction; Rico's armor was tough enough to withstand them; Kelly was swift and had the senses to get out of their way while striking at them like a snake.

At last, they arrived at the hangar. It was no longer a large empty space. Multitudes of creatures were trying to overwhelm Sisko's Flyer.

They had the Flyer surrounded. The vehicle hovered a few feet above the floor, moving in circles to not get overwhelmed by the crowd of creatures surrounding it. Phasers shot out to disintegrate scores of the creatures. Deflector shields kept them from leaping atop it. Sisko seemed to be doing a good job keeping the creatures at bay, but there was a limit for everything.

Rico took out his hand flamers, and set it to fire. Thick streams of flame came out, burning the aliens; those nearest were converted to ashes. Kelly didn't hesitate to use his gun, disintegrating many more.

Sisko quickly took advantage of the opening. Quickly, he swerved towards the two humans, pivoting his ship so that the rear was to them.

"Get in quick!" shouted Sisko through the communicator within Rico's helmet. Through his visor, Rico could see that the shield had been momentarily turned off. It was a matter of time before one of the creatures leapt on top of the Flyer.

The door opened and Kelly rushed in, and Rico followed in without firing another shot. Time couldn't be wasted. The door quickly closed behind them. Sisko's fingers were fast, and the shield was activated again. Rico picked up a reading from his helmet.

"One of them tried to jump on top," Kelly said.

"They weren't fast enough" said Sisko, his eyes on the viewscreen before him as he accelerated the Flyer away.

In a mere matter of seconds, the Flyer was surrounded by darkness. In the next second, there was a massive explosion, and a glare of light. The organic ship was reduced to atoms along with the strange creatures within.

* * *

Arkady Darell took a deep breath and lifted the transcriber closer to her mouth. She looked for a moment at her surroundings. She was calmly seated on an intricate wooden chair, within the patio next to the hotel's garden.

The two aliens, Yumi, the blue skinned Zotrian girl, and the botanist who insisted that everyone call him E.T., were tending the nearby flowers. After an initial shock, Arkady grew accustomed to the pair. With Yumi, it hadn't taken too long. Apart from her pointed ears, eyes, blue skin and snow white hair, she looked exactly like a human being. The botanist was a completely different being altogether. He was squat, with long arms and legs so short that he had to wobble instead of walking. A long thin neck supported a long head which extended forwards, and ended with a flat face. It took a day for Arkady to conclude that E.T. was a higher being than fellow human Joshua Calvert.

They seemed to be having a good time.

"Everything about the hotel is pleasant. It's very clean with the beds being made every morning the moment we get up. Food and drink of every sort is plentiful. The air is very fresh. The staff is professional and friendly, although that is due to the fact that they are all robots in spite of their human appearance. It is a palace fit for a king, rivalling the palaces I know on Kalgan. And yet, this hotel feels like a prison" said Arkady, speaking to the transcriber. She looked to her right, to beyond the land covered by the hotel. She could see several of the larger robots lurking about.

"Although the human looking robots within our hotel have served our every need, there are others beyond the hotel which could at any moment kill us all" Arkady took another deep breath.

She couldn't help but wonder what was it that kept those robots out of the hotel. Arkady was glad that they didn't; especially the skeleton looking ones. However, Arkady was concerned that whatever might keep them away might stop working.

"Robots! What would Seldon say if he ever saw one? Once they existed, many ages ago, servants to the now extinct Spacers. Being surrounded and menaced by them, I can see why they vanished from history. This truly is a different reality" said Arkady, before she remembered VINCENT. He could be considered different from the other robots. He seemed more human; and it was thanks to him that the robots outside of the hotel seemed uninterested in attacking.

"Hey!"

Arkady nearly dropped her transcriber. She turned her head in the direction of the shout, and was relieved to see that it was only Cookie. Even though the young spaceman was bit rowdy, he wasn't the uncouth, self-important jackass that Joshua Calvert was. At least, she wouldn't have to worry about Yumi's safety around Cookie; Calvert had no idea of what propriety was.

Cookie walked straight to Arkady. He was wearing the short-sleeved, alternate version of his gray United Planets Stellar Survey uniform. Cookie was the sort to smile mischievously as he ducked into a corner to guzzle down some Bourbon, but the current expression on his face was worryingly serious. She had never seen Cookie look like that before.

The young cook nodded towards Yumi and E.T. before stopping a few feet away from Arkady.

"I'm sorry to bother you Ms. Darell, but you wouldn't know where Captain Sisko or VINCENT are, would you?" he asked. Arkady was perceptive enough to know that the matter was serious.

"What's wrong Cookie?" asked Arkady, giving him a stern look; if he had grave news to deliver then she could hear it just as well as Captain Sisko. She was growing tired of being treated like a child even though she was thirty-eight, a veteran of three failed marriages, and a bestselling author of historical novels. Too many years had passed since she was a fourteen year old girl stowing away on Homir Munn's ship to Kalgan.

"Sorry ma'am, but I don't think you should hear what I have to say," he said, the seriousness of his expression now intermingling with a sense of timidity.

"You sound serious Cookie," said Arkady, not relenting.

"This is a cook's business," said Cookie. "You wouldn't be interested"

For a moment, Arkady considered charming an answer out of the young man; she thought better of it. This was not the place to flutter one's eyelashes. Certainly not with Calvert out and about.

"Captain Sisko is coming!" said Yumi suddenly. Arkady was surprised to see that the blue skinned girl was standing next to them. E.T. stood a few feet away, looking at everyone with curiosity. "And he's bringing someone new! Or is it two people?"

Yumi placed her hands on her head; she looked like she was straining herself; the red orb over her head piece blinked repeatedly.

"It's so confusing! It feels like there's one person but then it feels like there's two," Yumi repeated.

The appearance of Sisko's shuttle, encased within a metallic frame near the cylindrical ship's axis, was enough to distract Arkady from asking any further question from Yumi.

Cookie turned away from Arkady and quickly made his way to the landing field. Yumi quickly followed. Arkady had no choice but to get up and strap her transcriber to her belt; she quickened her pace behind the cook and the Zotrian girl.

* * *

Slowly, the frame brought down Captain Sisko's Flyer towards the circular field. It gently placed the Flyer in the wide space between Cookie's large, saucer shaped vessel – what he called the light cruiser C-62E – and Arkady's own ship.

Arkady sighed. Of the ships currently lined along the limit of the circular landing field, only Captain Sisko's Delta Flyer was in any condition to leave Rama XIII. Her ship was mangled and burned. Cookie's ship, although seemingly intact, had her engine reduced to ash and the rest of her crew buried in the limits of the hotel, following a mysterious attack. The ships of Yumi and E.T. were in similar states. Calvert's spaceplane had its wings and thrusters shot. Lieutenant Rico came in a capsule.

Through the corner of her eye, Arkady noticed Yumi step forward. Her expression was one of worry.

"Are you scared of anything?" asked Arkady. It was a good question. Ever since she had arrived, Arkady had known of Yumi's mentallic power – a power which would have made the Mule himself shake in fear.

What was she feeling? What had the teenage girl so concerned?

"She shouldn't be scared. There are plenty of people here to help her out," said a voice which immediately made Arkady scowl. She turned to look Joshua Calvert in the eye. Arkady had disliked the man ever since he had arrived. Tall and handsome, Calvert reminded her of a particularly unscrupulous fiancée of hers; a man who had been handsome, charming and of loathsome character whom she had found fooling around with Poli of all people. The memory of that betrayal still angered her.

"Get lost Calvert," said Arkady.

The man continued to smile, but it was a weaker sort of grin.

"What have you against me Ms. Darell?" he asked.

Arkady couldn't help but laugh. "Everything"

The left corner of Calvert's mouth drooped slightly. He was, as he always reminded everyone, 'geneered', a term which meant that his body had been modified before birth, much like the ancient Spacers of yore. His height and chiseled body was not natural. Nothing about the man was natural. There was nothing wrong with that, but the man was arrogant and possessing of a horrid lust which unfortunately had Yumi as its target. Arkady was lucky enough to be too old to attract Calvert's attention; the geneered man liked his ladies very young.

No matter what, Arkady was determined to protect the alien girl. Arkady had enough training from her years travelling throughout the galaxy to defend herself and others. Her second husband had taught her how to use a neuronic whip, and she had with her a force-field bladed penknife in case Calvert came too close. A power generator the size of walnut in her belt buckle could generate an energy shield around her entire body. Calvert was geneered to be muscular and tall; Arkady was armed with the best weaponry the Foundation had to offer.

The door to the Flyer opened. Sisko came out, followed by a young man, slight of frame and short of stature. He couldn't be older then eighteen by Arkady's estimation. His outfit was unrecognizable; space black and silver for the most part, with a golden collar. The emblem on his chest was that of a cat's face. Most noticeably was the lens on his wrist. It glowed in an eldritch manner.

Arkady studied the young man's face. Yumi seemed to be concerned, and Arkady wanted to know why.

It was a nice looking face; like a lamb. However, in a certain way, it was like a cat's face, watchful and predatory.

"I see now," said Yumi, taking Arkady by surprise.

"What?" Arkady asked.

"That young man," she said, her eyes widening. "He's nice enough, but he has a strange creature on his shoulders. A black cat with fiery red eyes!"

"You don't have to worry about him," said Calvert, cutting in. "I'll always be here by your side"

Arkady nearly stabbed him with her pen-knife.

Only Captain Sisko's approach kept the situation from escalating.

"Mr. Calvert, I hope you've been on your best behavior," said Captain Sisko with a hint of derision in his voice. He too knew of men like Joshua Calvert, and he wasn't too keen on seeing him so close to Yumi.

Calvert took a few steps back.

"You always think the worst of me Captain Sisko. That's not fair. Besides, it's getting tiring reminding you that I am a captain," Calvert replied, clearly intimidated by Sisko. For all his bragging about his 'geneered' body, Sisko genuinely scared him.

"A captain of a merchant vessel. By your account," said Sisko with disdain.

Calvert gulped audibly. He straightened himself out in an attempt to defy Sisko.

Lieutenant Rico came out, still wearing his bulky armor which made him look like a gorilla made of metal. As soon as he was out, the helmet popped open, revealing his shaved head, an olive colored face and slanted eyes like the peoples of the inner star systems. His attention went immediately towards Calvert, but he didn't step towards him like Sisko had.

"Captain Sisko!" exclaimed Cookie suddenly, calling Sisko's attention away from Calvert. As before, the cook looked unusually serious, and by his own expression, Sisko seemed to understand that.

"Is something bothering you Crewman?" asked Sisko.

"It's Spaceman sir, and yes Captain, something is bothering me sir" said Cookie hurriedly.

Sisko then turned to look to his left. Arkady followed his line of sight to see a new arrival: the robot, VINCENT.

Sisko exhaled and turned to Rico.

"Do the introductions Lieutenant," Sisko said, then turning to Cookie, he added, "Let's take this to the office," he then nodded towards the hovering robot. The three of them made their way to the hotel.

* * *

Sisko sat behind his desk, quietly looking at the monitor of his computer. According to the computer, Rama XIII was no longer where it once was. It was in another place, devoid of stars and other astral bodies.

Now more than ever, he wished he could remember what the prophets had told him. He understood why they had erased his memory, but he was beginning to have his doubts about his ability to fulfil his part.

What both VINCENT and Spaceman Cook had told him was unsettling.

VINCENT's job was to look into Rama XIII's history. The robot hadn't retrieved everything, but enough to paint a disturbing picture. Rama XIII was indeed a human vessel, though one which had been based on another alien vessel. Early on in its history, it had fallen into a wormhole, where it was found by another human civilization of another reality. Since then, Rama XIII had been occupied by something else, which populated the cylinder's interior with machines conceived to kill. The only place which the death machines could not touch was the hotel.

The squat robot had managed to use Rama XIII's computer to alter their programming, otherwise the robots would do their best to overwhelm the hotel and kill all of the inhabitants. The solution wasn't permanent; VINCENT's updates to the reprogramming were constant. When Sisko first arrived, VINCENT only had to make updates every week. Now it was every two days. The process was getting more onerous.

Cookie's findings were also of concern. Spaceman Cook, true to his name, was his ship's cook. Sisko couldn't help but be reminded of his own father whenever he spoke to Cookie. They weren't at all alike, but Cookie had a similar love of his craft. Cookie also elicited curiosity from Sisko in the fact that he came from a reality different from his own, but that was so very similar. The light cruiser within which Cookie had arrived as the sole survivor of an unknown disaster was similar to the saucer sections of so many federation ships; his United Planets sounded similar to the United Federation of Planets.

What Cookie had said about the food was disturbing. Cookie had told him without any doubts that the food being produced within Rama XIII was getting progressively worse. So far, it wouldn't be noticed, but soon, Everyone would be dependent on Sisko's portable replicator, something which Sisko didn't want to rely on just yet.

In summation, everyone on board needed to leave.

* * *

No matter where Bail went, no matter what corner of the galaxy, cantinas always seemed the same to him, dark, filled with smoke and populated with all sorts of scum. The sort of environment his father frequented in his younger years.

He still did, from time to time. Although Han Solo was no longer a smuggler, he kept in touch with his past.

Bail sat uneasily in his corner, looking around, his visage hidden by the shadow. Uncle Luke was more out in the open, at the outer end of the table. His back was turned to everyone, but he was no less alert.

* * *

_Yup, this is were I got stumped. At this point, the evil forces of the Warmaster were going to attack Phaeda, marking the first attack upon imperial territory. Alia Atreides was supposed to kill Bail. The next chapter would have the Enterprise finding the Rama XIII, and the Borg coming into the mix as well, with everyone fighting the Borg within the Rama, holding them off with their talents (Darell would use an advanced version of her father's mind static device in conjunction with Yumi's abilities to cancel off the Borg's adaptation; Calvert would die, causing a telepathic surge which would stun the Borg); Rico would be using his fists and flamers, Kelly his space-axe, Sisko a Cylon sword, while E.T. would use his powers to uproot trees and bash the Borg with them. Vincent (whose name I could never properly write on this site) would trick the Manshonyaggers, Terminators and Cylons into attacking the Borg, while also activating the Rama's self destruct. EVeryone but Calvert would escape to the Enterprise._

_Other plans I had were to see the Enterprise getting refitted within the Star Wars galaxy to look similar to the (original, 1978) movie incarnation, and Jatha - from the first chapter - being revealed as Isis, a character who appeared alongside Garry Seven in Assignment: Earth; her features modified and her memories erased. I could have shipped her with Ted Kelly. I could have shipped Kirk with Arkady Darell. Oh well, I hope the next time I fare better._

_I will be using the title,_ **Stranger's Journey** _again. It's a title I like. But I'll be keeping this story up, and let everyone know my folly._


End file.
